Contractual Obligations
by Dream.Big.Die.Free
Summary: Patricia doesn't understand it herself, of course. She actually does hate him, quite a bit, this enemies with benefits only began at the start of Year Eleven. She doesn't feel any differently about him than she did last year. All she knows is he's one talented kisser and she cannot comprehend one rational reason not to continue this as he nips her bottom lip. Rated T.
1. Dirty Little Secret

**Disclaimer: Not mine, will never be.**

**So, this is my new multi chapter fic, in which Patricia and Eddie star as two very spiteful yet lustful enemies, willing to put aside their differences for the greater good of a magnificent snog. Basically Friends with benefits Anubis style. In this both Nina and the new girls feature and couples were as they were at the conclusion of season 2, with the exception of Eddie and Patricia, who hate each other but wish to jump their opposition's bones. Literally.**

**Rated T for a good reason. Nothing too graphic, but it's not all innocent either. Might get steamier as time goes on but will never cross over into M, I'm pretty sure.**

**Anyways, as always, I hope you enjoy it and leave a review if you did (or didn't, I welcome criticism with open arms). They are always appreciated.**

**Without further adieu, I give you "Contractual Obligations".**

* * *

"_You are the only one that needs to know. I'll keep you my dirty little secret." –All American Rejects_

* * *

"Get out of my face, you arsehole!"

"Here we go again," Jerome rolls his eyes to accompany Mara's comment as he reaches across the breakfast table, grabbing a slice of toast. Upstairs, the pounding of feet and the slamming of doors are frequent, loud noises, most especially in the morning. This, much to the residents' distain, is a solid element of their routine.

It's no secret; Eddie hates Patricia and Patricia hates Eddie.

They'd never gotten along, from the moment he sauntered into Anubis House at the beginning of Year Nine Patricia despised him. To the intense dismay of the other residents, it had been back and forth insults and verbal attacks for over two years. Not only did it dissuade any hope of quiet time in the house, nights out were awkward, especially as they got older. Eddie has a particularly nasty tendency to describe Patricia's less appealing habits, in detail, to any prospective snogging partners. This practice never really seems to go down too well; Eddie always ends up soaked with whatever alcoholic beverage Patricia was previously downing.

"Anything for you, _Yacker,_" Nina groans as they all hear it. More than anything, Patricia does not enjoy being called nicknames. Especially ones created by Eddie himself. Everybody knows what hearing 'Yacker' means.

"Today is not going to be good," Joy mutters, pinching an apple and rising from the table. Outside in the hall, she can spot high, black boots battering the stairs, followed closely by a pair of trainers. The two sets of legs hit the tiles heavily, Joy can hear things clattering out of the fighters' way. Nobody messes with Eddie and Patricia on days like this.  
As if on cue, the couple enter the dining hall, Patricia first, miles above all the other girls in her heels, blazer sleeves rolled up to her elbows and fishnet clad legs. Eddie shadows her, school jacket missing, hair delectably sleep rumpled. They ignore each other now, as Eddie sits, pouring himself some orange juice. Patricia grabs her own apple and joins Joy in the kitchen, searching for her schoolbag.  
"Good morning?" Joy's question is rhetorical and sardonic. Patricia just glares at her, as Joy leans heavily on the side of the counter, amused. At the table, Eddie laughs infuriatingly loud at a comment Fabian makes and Patricia grinds her teeth together, throwing her bag over her shoulder.  
"He's obnoxious," she growls, frowning deeply.

"Willow thinks he's gorgeous," Joy giggles as Patricia throws her eyes to the ceiling, slamming her palm on the island top, exasperated.

"Yes, well, Willow's barmy," Patricia retorts, her scowl intensifying, "she thinks Alfie's attractive." Joy snorts loudly, placing her mug in the sink and joins Patricia in the door frame. Around the table everyone is chattering loudly, KT furiously attempting to finish her homework while Nina and Fabian don repulsively adorable faces, staring at each other.

Making her decision –because she always has to have the last say during any argument, but most especially with him - Patricia marches forward, purposely winds her long fingers around the handle of the jug and dumps the remaining orange juice over Eddie's head.

Hunkering down to eye level as he grunts, hastily wiping the liquid from his eyes, Patricia grins widely at him.

"Have a lovely day, Edison," she croons, slapping the side of his soaked face gently, before grabbing both cheeks firmly in one hand and squeezing. Leaning in closely so that he can feel her breath on his puckered lips and his ridiculously long eyelashes almost graze her nose, she smirks and whispers, "don't ever call me Yacker again, Slimeball."

With that she rises to light applause from Amber, who always finds her outbursts entertaining. As she and Joy reach the front door conversation strikes up again, the volume rising decibels, put not before she hears Jerome laughing loudly.

"What?" he asks, "You've got to give it to her, she knows how to dish out as good as she gets."

* * *

"God, that was hot this morning, Trixie."

Patricia groans, throwing her head back as Eddie kisses down her neck, hoisting her up onto the desk behind them. Her long, lean legs wrap tightly around his hips, pulling him closer sharply. He bites heavily in retaliation and she hisses through her teeth, her hands fisting to grip the front of his shirt tightly.

"Yeah, well, you're sexy yourself," she mutters and he lifts his skin from hers for a second, smirking triumphantly. Rolling her eyes, Patricia reaches up and strings her lips to his, kissing him furiously. His large, deliciously warm hands wind their way up under her uniform, exploring the planes of her back. He reaches the bottom of her bra, skimming it gently as she open her mouth to him. They've never fruitlessly battled for control or domination. They both know well how pointless that would be. They are each as strong as the other.

Rather she pushes and he pulls, tugging her blazer off as she yanks his tie over his mussed hair. Her skin is on fire as they separate, rejoining almost instantly. He is pressed entirely up against her, the heat of his body radiating hers, his kisses rough and always searing. He treats her like she's always wanted a snogging partner to, ripping her tights and demanding kiss after kiss. He makes her want to sneak away from Joy and the other girls at lunch time and slide into darkened empty classrooms to grip his hair and mark his skin. He makes the lying worth it.

Patricia doesn't understand it herself, of course. She actually does hate him, quite a bit, this enemies with benefits only began at the start of Year Eleven. She doesn't feel any differently about him than she did last year. All she knows is he's one talented kisser and she cannot comprehend one rational reason not to continue this as he nips her bottom lip, causing her to moan deeply.

She toys with the buttons on his shirt. They've gotten a little further than this before, so her knowledge of what the material hides makes her even more desperate to rid him of it. Who knew an American idiot could be so toned?

"Willow Jenkins thinks you're good looking," Patricia murmurs as her nimble fingers dislodge his first button, revealing a sliver of sculpted chest.

"Who?" Patricia snickers at his answer, satisfied and opens the next button, tracing his skin with her fingertips, kissing him again, slowly, deliberately outlining the roof of his mouth with her tongue. Just as she is about to reveal his upper torso the bell rings out, loud and shrill and Eddie pulls away with a disgruntled sigh.

Looking down Patricia can see what she didn't notice while his lips were all over hers; he has her shirt completely undone, her black lace bra on show. He fastens his own back into place as she pulls on her blazer. These little rendezvous are strange, she knows. They will go back to hating one another too much even conceive touching when they leave the room. Yet they will be back tomorrow, after much generously harsh comments and vicious verbal harassment. The physical attacks won't come until their next school day or if, by some miracle, they find a safe, empty room at Anubis house.

Much to Patricia's distaste, this is not likely.

They have a system in which Eddie leaves the room first, Patricia counts to sixty, then she slips out into the rush of the last minute lunch time crowd. It's been working for them for almost three months.

"Later," Eddie says, creaking open the solid oak door, before throwing a look back over his shoulder, smiling devilishly as he winks, "Yacker."

She throws a whiteboard eraser at the back of his head, but it is disappointingly blocked by the slamming door.

* * *

**Well there it is. Do let me know if I should continue. I really enjoyed writing it and I have a lot planned for it. :)**

**-Dream **


	2. Die Young

**First of all I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed. Your support for this story, even in the early stages is amazing! Somebody even said I might be one of the best Peddie writers, which is a too generous and exceptionally kind comment. I just love to write about them and I most especially can't wait to see them back next Thursday! **

**Anyways, on with the story. In this, I've bent Willow a little for my specifications. I actually think I will really like her character, but I'm not a huge fan of OCs who play big roles in the story, so I just teased her into the person I needed for plot purposes. Hope you don't hate me for it. :)**

**Also, I have a little bit of a head cannon in which every second girl at the school has it bad for the mysterious, attractive American blond. ;) **

**On with Chapter 2**

* * *

"_If you're looking for some trouble tonight, Just take my hand, I'll show you the wild side, Like it's the last night of our lives." - Kesha_

* * *

"Why did I sign up for this again?" Patricia grumbles, dumping her things on the floor and dropping onto the couch behind her. Across from her, on the stage, Amber and Nina stand close together, examining a clip board, while Joy and KT make themselves comfortable beside Patricia. Willow and Mara have yet to show up, but Patricia knows they are also involved in this charade.

Jerome and Alfie pulled some ridiculously juvenile prank last week and got roped into it so they could avoid detention. Mick needs extra credit from Ms Denby, the new history teacher and Fabian goes where Nina wants him to.

Yet she can't for the life of her determine a reason as to why Eddie is slouched on the armchair opposite her. His head lolls back over the head of the chair while his arms are crossed over his chest, his eyes closed, blocking out the sounds of the after school activities. Patricia just glares at him. How dare he turn up here? It's not like she wanted to get involved in any school dance committee, least of all if he was a member of it.

"Because you wanted to help out a friend?" Joy replies, "Because I didn't want to be outnumbered by Nina and Amber? Come on Trix, don't back out on me now or you'll have to attend a dance filled with pony rides and pink, fluffy table decorations."

Sighing Patricia waves Joy's concerns away with an offhand flick of her wrist. She's right, going to school dances is never fun, but going to an Amber extravaganza is actually physically painful. It involves a lot of fake smiling and actual body movements in time to music. Which she doesn't do. Ever. So, she'll stay and fight her corner for a red and black theme, as opposed to pearl white and soft pink. And because Joy is her friend and even though she's over Fabian, seeing him with Nina still kind of hits deep. Patricia has seen her cringe slightly at their mushy faces and sweet words, so she'll stay. Joy's taken enough punches to the gut this past year.

"Sure, sure," Patricia agrees, kicking her heeled boots up onto the table in front of her.

"Nice and dry, I see," Jerome enters the room loudly and Eddie's head snaps up, eyes flying opening wildly. Momentarily, Patricia catches his gaze, which blinks slowly, confused. The corner of her mouth twitches into a subtle smirk and he recovers, his face contorting into a wide grin.

Willow, she notices, follows Jerome and Alfie into the room. She's quite pretty, Patricia concedes, in that wide eyed and innocent sort of manner. Her hair is in two even, low hanging ponytails, a white hair band included. She never wears makeup, Patricia knows, and her shoes are flat and plain black leather. She always has her homework in on time and completed to perfection.

Rule follower.

Patricia ponders the fact that Willow's crush on Eddie has not made the school newsletter yet, because she's never seen anything quiet as obvious as Willow's puppy dog look directed at him as she makes her way across the hall. Before she manages to hone in on him however, KT waves her over and Willow joins the rest of the girls, buffered from Eddie by several other people.

"Snug and toasty," Eddie snips back, "thanks for your concern." Both boys laugh and Patricia rolls her eyes, as Amber claps loudly, calling all attention to her. She is smiling brightly, clipboard secured under her elbow, Nina shadowing her.

"Alright guys," Amber starts, "as you all know, we are here to plan this year's winter formal. This is a lot of responsibility, but it is going to be so awesome." She squeals happily and Patricia winches. Joy sends her an apologetic look and Patricia resigns herself to not grimacing so obviously.

"So, we assigned groups," Nina explains, hopping down off the stage and handing out a sheet to each individual, "everyone has a set of tasks. This way the work is broken up and we'll get everything done much more quickly."

Patricia accepts the paper from her without a backward glance, her eyes immediately scanning the page. It's typed in Amber's favourite cursive font so the "K" of KT's name is long and sweeping at the top of the list, filed under "Decorations". Accompanying her is Mara's name, followed by Joy's.

Patricia ticks of order after order.

Security, Music, Invitations, Dress Codes.

Catering. Her name in there, right after Willow's. Right before Eddie's.

"Shit," she curses under her breath. This, she knows is not good. They've made a pact; stay as far away from each other outside of their clandestine meetings, no need to obfuscate the situation.

This breaks every term on their unspoken contract.

Her eyes find his face still bent over the sheet. His finger tap out an unknown beat on his thigh as he reads. She waits for him to locate it, their names on the list, strung together by a flowery ampersand. When he does, his head shoots up and his eyes meet hers. Any remnants of a smile have disappeared and he appears mildly shocked and vaguely put out.

Willow, for her part, looks absolutely delighted.

* * *

"So, I figured we should check the bakery section but the cooking section too," Willow chirps, pulling out a chair in the library, "you know, get some ideas. We've got a huge budget, the school's been very generous, you know..." Patricia stops listening, scraps back her own chair, abandons her bag on the hard, wooden seat and begins to meander around the shelves to the tune of Willow's chatter. The girl is anything but subtle, Patricia must admit. Even if she'd never told him of Willow's little crush, Eddie probably would've figured it out for himself.

He appears disinterested too. He is leaning against the table, studying his phone closely. His arms flex slightly under his jumper and Patricia sighs.

This is not going to be easy.

She fingers the books slowly, the titles flashing in her eyes. She's never spent much time in here. Honestly, she can't figure out exactly why Nina and Fabian like it so much, it just reminds her of school and smells so disgustingly musky.

"Right, well you should probably check the reference books. They're upstairs."

Patricia sneaks a look over her shoulder, to find a languidly bored Eddie and Willow, who appears ecstatic that he's addressed her. Patricia takes one fleeting moment to praise whatever deity that might exist that she has never looked that desperate in her entire lifetime.

"Well, you could come with-"

"No, that's okay," Eddie smiles gently at her, encouraging her towards the stairs, "I think you've got it, Willow." With the mention of her name and a brief beam of his brightest smile, Willow nods in stupified agreement, nearly tripping over herself to get to the reference section.

Patricia has to give it to him, he's certainly a top class manipulator.

"This is going to end badly, you know," she mutters as soon as she's sure Willow's out of ear shot, "a bloody disaster waiting to happen." Turning around and throwing all of her weight back onto to shelf, she observes him momentarily. He is regarding her with a bemused look that reminds her of how Amber used to look at Mara before she and Mick dated. He slowly makes his way over to her, until his breath is on her cheek and he encircles her waist with his arms, jerking her closer to him.

"I don't mind it so much. I like to taste delicious things," he laughs into her ear.

"Is that some weird kind of euphemism?" she frowns at him, smacking his shoulder sharply as he chuckles even louder, "and I wasn't talking about the catering. I mean us working together. Especially around Ms Candy and Rainbow Unicorns over there."

Eddie just looks back at her for a moment, brown eyes blazing, his enjoyment evident, before leaning in to kiss her, squarely, hard on the mouth. Sighing into his touch, she forgets their discussion for a moment, melting into her lust. Because for every annoyingly crude part of him are three equally attractive parts. They tend to outweigh the rest.

"I don't know," he murmurs, "we'll have much more time together." His fingers whisper down her back and over her ass, squeezing slightly, causing Patricia to shiver.

Directly above them, something crashes and immediately Willow's high pitched babbling commences. Patricia groans pulling away from Eddie and running a hand through her hair.

"We're going to get caught," she hisses, pointing briefly at the ceiling, "and in case you've forgotten, that is exactly what we don't want. I still hate you, Slimeball."

"The feeling is mutual," Eddie retorts, wrapping himself around her and drawing her back to him, "but the threat is half the fun."

His voice is so husky and deep and nobody else her age talks that low that she just nods and lets him kiss her, despite the fact that she knows that's vaguely anti-feminist. But she's a teenager who has flaring hormones and, thanks to Eddie's doing and her embarrassingly public foot phobia, hasn't been kissed by anyone else in over nine months.

He moves against her mouth, but he's never familiar and she still shudders with pleasure as he traces her tongue. She replies, sketching his upper lip.

She's just about to weaves her fingers through the tail ends of his hair when she hears quick, flighty footsteps on the stairs. She shoves him away from her, spinning on her heel so she's once again facing the books. She is breathing heavily, adrenaline pulsing as Willow reappears. She's holding a stack of books in her arms, standing feet together, like a soldier ready for their orders. She peers at Patricia, who's practically shaking.

"What's going on?" Willow asks and her sweet voice runs nails on chalkboards for Patricia, "are you okay, Patricia?"

"She's fine. I was just helping her out," he doesn't turn from the books as he replies to Willow, catching Patricia's glance as she sneaks a look at him. He pokes his tongue out at her, quickly, so she almost misses it. It's playful and weirdly friendly and causes Patricia to mentally double take. They do not joke.

"Isn't that right, Yacker?" then they're back again and she feels the overwhelming urge to kick him where it would hurt most. Instead she grabs a discarded book and hits him forcefully over the head with it. Eddie cringes, rubbing his neck.

"That's going to bruise," he complains, but Patricia just ignores him, smiling too brightly at Willow. The other girl raises her eyebrows, looking between Patricia and Eddie, once, then a second time.

"Okay," Willow concedes as she lays her own finds out on the table, large, old books that Patricia knows they'll never use. Eddie likes improvisation; she's seen the results of his previous pancake expeditions. On the plus side, Willow seems to buy their story.

Although, lord only knows why they'd ever find cook books in the dendrology section.

**Well, there it is. I do hope you enjoyed it. As always, reviews are appreciated greatly. :)**

**-D **

**Oh, P.S. I think I will be posting every Saturday. If I have a schedule to stick to, I'll be much better at churning chapters out. **

**Also, has anyone got any links for the last episode, all my links have stopped working. **


	3. Teenage Dream

**First of all, crying. Why'd they have to break up? Although, with the amount of sexual tension between them, I'd be shocked if they didn't get back together. **

**And it has to be said, while I was no Nina hater, the acting was infinitely better. Also, Klariza is a fantastic actress, she just delivers her lines very fluently.**

**I was endlessly amused by the fact that Patricia thinks that Eddie cheated on her with Nina, mostly because that was the plotline behind Of Accidental Kisses. Totally saw that coming when I was writing it. **

**Also, something makes me think that Eddie's not really a popsicle about it all, even though that was my favourite line of the whole episode. And now, I have a little bit of a head cannon in which KT reassures Patricia that Eddie is in love with her. But if that were to happen, it wouldn't until significantly further into this season. Which upsets me, because I love Peddie. **

**Either way, on with this chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

"_You and I will be young forever. You make me feel like I'm living the teenage dream, the way you turn me on." –Katy Perry_

"Didn't know you had a tattoo," Eddie says, pushing the sleeves of her shirt off over her shoulders, fascinated. They are sitting on a desk, her straddling him, already rid of half their school garments. His fingers splay over her shoulder, warm against her pale skin. It is starting to get cold, only one day before the Christmas countdown begins. They'd all begun wearing scarves and hats across the school grounds and Victor had lit the fire for the first time yesterday evening.

Patricia never did learn to retain any warmth, so his hands are a welcome solace this lunch time, "how did I not notice that before?"

It's a small, simple infinity sign, hidden partially by her dark curls, tangled with his large fingers and he traces it slowly, once, twice and then finally a third time. He looks down at her, considering her for a moment before leaning in to kiss her firmly, hands falling from her shoulder and down to her middle back.

Their chests are pressed together, his bare and searing, hers barely clad in a purple bra and frigidly cold. They are in the geography classroom today ("Best to move around, isn't it? Less chance of getting caught."), door safely locked and bolted. Blazers and jumpers lie discarded across the floor, a bread trail to their position, on a table in the back row. Sometimes she contemplates the possibility of other couples on tables in other classrooms, doing the same sly thing, except then she thinks only of Nina and Fabian, who are too good to even envisage such an idea, let alone carry through with it, or Amber and Alfie. Amber would object, solely based on the principle that Princess Katherine would never conceive such a notion.

Her loss.

Her hands are on his lower waist, she plays with the solid line of his sleek, black trousers, fingers dipping below his belt line, teasing. They've never gone further than this, her undergarments have always stayed on and he's never unbuckled his trousers. Sometimes she really wants to explore whatever falls below the tempting v shape of Eddie's lower abdomen, but an hour would never be enough time to convince him that it's a feasible plan.

Patricia often wonders if he is just afraid to push her for fear of the consequences or whether he's never gone farther with another girl.

Knowing Eddie even the slightest bit, the former seems more likely. Patricia is not blind. She may hate him and have wholly despised him for his first two years of residence at Anubis, but she still notices them. All these pathetic girls, planting themselves in Eddie's face, frequently. At dances it is nauseating. Always begging for a chance, fluttering dark, fake eyelashes and smiling with red lips, displaying their desperation and lipstick stained teeth.

If only they could see their beloved now.

He groans into her, pushing against her.

These are the moments she thinks that they've not gotten further simply because of logistics - It's certainly difficult to lie down on the pupils' desks. And she is not doing anything on a teacher's table. His dad is their principal. That would just be strange - especially when he fingers the clasp of her bra, circling it slowly like he did with her tattoo.

Then, much to Patricia's frustration, she can hear voices in the hall way, one more unmistakable than the others. Her face tenses and Eddie feels it, pulling back and scrunching his own hands in irritation.

"That girl is such a cock block," Eddie entangles himself from Patricia, as Willow's voice grows louder. She's been ridiculously bossy in terms of the catering. She wants snowflake cupcakes and winter white icing, while Eddie argues for brownies and Patricia paints her nails in black polish. In the interim, she practically throws herself at Eddie, touching him far more than necessary and complimenting him to the point where flattery becomes inappropriate and uncomfortable, even for Eddie. And he's not usually opposed to praise.

To top it all off, her optimism and unwavering giggles irk Patricia, which means they can't even find ways to sneak a quick session while she's not looking, because Patricia is too wound up.

Not in the good way.

"Tell me about it," Patricia agrees, taking his offered hand and hopping down off the table. They begin to gather their clothes together, in a reasonably comfortable silence. Outside, Willow draws closer, prattling about the dance and what dresses she's narrowed her choices down to. Girls Patricia doesn't recognise by voice answer her, probably friends from her own house.

"Yours," Eddie calls, rolling up her blazer and throwing it to her. Catching it easily, she holds up his tie which he snatches with a word of thanks.

She's just pulling her boots back on when the first bell rings, drowning out Willow's retreating footsteps and Eddie opens the door.

"You know I'm probably going to kill her at our next committee meeting, right?" Patricia asks, standing up and straightening her skirt. Eddie nods, determining that she looks presentable, "I mean if she mentions 'magical Christmas munchies' one more time, I swear..."

Eddie just laughs, loudly, before opening the door and starting out into the hall. Patricia, on the other hand, just grabs her bag and goes to sit in her seat near the far end of the room. He'll figure out they have Geography next lesson soon enough.

If not, he'll just get stuck in detention. She's not totally adverse to that idea.

* * *

It's starting to rain outside, thick sheets resounding off the ceiling and windows of the halls. It's dark too, the kind of overbearing grey that gets everyone's mood down. She'd thought perhaps she might have a better day, after all, their meeting in the Geography room had gone splendidly. Then again, Willow did interrupt the ending. Patricia should've seen the omen. She'd forgotten her homework, nearly fallen asleep in history – and Ms Denby disliked her enough to begin with – and their English teacher had been sick, so Mr Sweet supervised.

Patricia's stopped looking him in the eye. It's become kind of uncomfortable, doing what she does with his son.

She's trying to get her history homework done at the dining table, except, by this time, everyone else is finished with school work, so Joy has Taylor Swift or someone equally 'pop' blaring in their room. She'd travelled downstairs in a vain attempt to find silence. Alfie and Mick have the television volume up so high she can barely hear Amber and Nina talking in the kitchen.

They're supporting opposing teams, too, which means that sporadically one or the other jumps off the couch and shouts joyously while the other complains loudly about poor refereeing and rule bending.

Patricia already disliked the Ancient Egyptians, this is only making the torture even more harrowing. Honestly, she knows the Frobisher-Symthe family were experts in the field and she attends a school they founded, but realistically, all this information about some old cup is plain boring.

To put a shiny red cherry on top of an already disgruntling cake, Eddie is seated directly opposite her, on his mobile. Every now and again, he snorts a laugh, apparently amused by whomever he is texting. It's exasperating.

She's just about to launch into the concluding paragraph of her essay when Eddie sniggers loudly and the sound grates up her spine. Slamming her pen down onto the table loudly, she almost throws herself across the table and into his face. She is glaring at him, eyes narrowed, displeased.

"Can you please shut up?" she hisses, voice strained above the noise of their fellow residents, "your laugh his giving me a head ache."

Eddie raises his eyes to hers, staring just as intensely. He takes his time appraising her, before he looks over his shoulder at the boys watching soccer and turns his head, darting his eyes to the pair in the kitchen, one half of who is shrieking wildly about some aspect of their upcoming dance.

Raising an eyebrow slowly, his smile grows into a smirk, that Patricia notices crinkles the skin around their corner of his mouth it dimples.

"Oh," he retorts, "as opposed to the blissful golden silence everyone else is emitting."

She can feel her eyes tightening, narrowing into slits as he lounges back in his chair.

"Are you always this irrational, Yacker, or do you have PMS tonight?" he asks and for one brief second she wants to pummel his arrogant face. Instead she attempts to reign herself in an focuses her attention back onto her paper, picking up her pen and tapping it off the table to the beat of whatever song Joy's gotten stuck in her head.

"Yes," Eddie continues, dismissing her lack of response, "that's the most mature, viable option you have, ignore me completely."

She glances up at him and he is still staring at her, phone, so engaging only a moment ago, discarded. Uncomfortable under his gaze, she rises from her seat, abandoning her homework and passing Amber and Nina as she enters the kitchen. They don't seem to see her as they head up the stairs, engrossed in themes and snowflake designs.

She's filling the kettle for tea before she looks for Eddie again.

Shit, she thinks as she sees the determined set of his jaw, she's done it in for herself now. He's not going to stop until she's weak and the knees. She knows she wouldn't have the restraint to resist, even in front of these other people.

The last time he looked at her like that was right before they had their first ever session.

Before she even has a chance to blink, he's with her at the counter, approaching her slowly.

"Mind if I make a cup too?" his voice is too soft, too normal above the sound of the kettle heating up and it sets Patricia on edge. She nods, turning herself so her front compresses against the counter, her back to Eddie.

Almost immediately, she regrets that decision. He's suddenly pressed up against her, reaching up for mugs from the higher presses. She knows what he's doing, twisting this situation for his own benefit, with so many people so close to them she won't say anything. So she feels him, pushing into her back and tightening his muscles. His arm reaches out for the cups and he's so close she can smell him with every breath.

"That was really nasty what you did earlier," he whispers, "now I've got detention tomorrow at lunch time."

Oh, so, this is payback.

All she wants to do is turn around, grab his shoulders and kiss him fiercely on the lips, to continue what they'd started that afternoon. Except she can't, because Amber and Nina are still discussing things on the stairs and she can see them through the door, which means they can see her. So she lets him breath softly on her neck and digs her nails into her palm. She can hear him chuckling behind her, low, so his chest hums against her back.

This is, she thinks, probably the most excruciating moment of her life. She is completely frozen, overwhelmed by their proximity as he leans around her to grab two tea bags. He's just about the pick up the kettle when the both hear the sound of the door closing loudly, the rush of cold air causing Patricia to shiver.

"Excuse me?" somebody says above the drone of the television and everything stops, Eddie backs away from Patricia suddenly, dropping his hands to his side and he quickly joins the others in the living room, Patricia following a few second behind.

"Piper?" everyone in the room has turned to stare at the doorway, where a girl stands. On the stairs Nina and Amber's chatter is cut suddenly, as they too descend to identify the new guest. She is Patricia's height with the same auburn curls, yet significantly less ear studs (and tattoos). She is staring at everyone, eyes wide with intimidation. When Patricia finds her sister's face, she feels her whole body tense, ready to pounce. They never did get on.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

* * *

**Done and Done with chapter three. :) And out on time as promised. **

**Hope you liked it.**

**As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. **

**-D .**


	4. If Only They Knew

**Again, thank you so very very very much for all of your reviews and support. I appreciate them so much. **

**On a side note, I am thoroughly enjoying the way they are developing their storyline. :)**

**Here's hoping they get their act together soon. **

**Enjoy. :)**

* * *

"_Girl, oh, you know you got it/ Oh you know you do it better/ Girl, you know I want it/ Oh I want it more than ever." – A Rocket To the Moon_

* * *

Their next lunch time rendezvous is cancelled, partly due to the fact that Piper had shown up and Patricia is pacing in front of Mr Sweet's office, trying to find a possible reason as to why she should be allowed to stay. Of course, Eddie's detention doesn't things either.

Her sister stands opposite her, dressed in a uniform they procured from lost and found this morning. She resembles Patricia even more now, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed in her scratchy grey jumper. She's playing some imaginary tune on the frame of the door, her long, manicured fingers crossing and moving rapidly. She wouldn't explain to Patricia why exactly she decided to up and abandon her prestigious music college. Piper is talented, a prodigy, all her teachers say so. She has scholarships at all the major universities. The world is her oyster.

Patricia has no idea why she'd want to take a break and join her school. All they had were fancy Egyptian studying founders.

On the other hand, she got on fabulous with Joy and Mara. Piper and Joy were already familiar friends, what with Joy having spent so much time with them both over summer holidays and Christmas time. She and Mara were similar, both so focused and accomplished. They'd spent the evening in the living room, lounging on the couches, discussing ambitions and courses they wanted to go on to.

You know, after everybody got over Patricia having a secret twin.

She knows all her female housemates are waiting in the student lounge, nervously hoping for a successful outcome. Patricia has agreed to ask their principal to have Piper stay for a week, so she can escape whatever it is that's hounding her at The Austrian Institute of Music or whatever well to do school she attends.

"Well then, Ms Williamson and Ms Williamson," Mr Sweet opens the door widely, gesturing a welcome, "I'm ready for you now."

Patricia glances over at her twin, shifting her bag on her shoulders and follows Eddie's Dad into his office, taking a seat across from his desk. She's been in once or twice – in the months after Eddie's arrival, before they all knew about their relationship, Patricia may have thrown some food – so the deep mahogany is not an unusual sight. But by her face, Patricia knows Piper's never been in any trouble before. In fact, she's sure the Dean of the Belgium Academy for Orchestral Talent only knows Piper by name because of all the accolades.

"Right, well," Mr Sweet says, lowering himself slowly into his chair, "at least one cannot deny that you two are related."

Piper snorts a polite laugh, always obliging, at Mr Sweet's poor attempt at a joke, while Patricia just stares blankly.

"Right," he repeats, "girls, what do you expect to get out of this meeting?"

Patricia looks at Piper, who shrugs a little, batting her eyelids, slow and deliberate.

Sighing, Patricia picks up the slack, "Piper's feeling a little... uncomfortable at school at the moment. She's just wondering if she could stay with us at Anubis House, attending lessons, of course. Get a taste of ordinary school."

Mr Sweet raises an eyebrow slowly, a feat Patricia knows he's practiced to perfect.

"For like a week, tops," she adds quickly.

He appraises them wearingly, too accustomed to Patricia's antics to be completely certain of this project's validity. Beside her, Piper shuffles awkwardly in her seat, adjusting her school skirt. Of the pair, she was always the one who fidgeted.

"Ladies, I'm afraid we don't normally _do _this kind of thing," Mr Sweet begins and Piper squeaks in apprehension. Patricia notices her hands tighten around the ends of the arms of the chair, squeezing, "it is against school policy to allow students to stay on campus without prior consent. We've not even got a bed for you at Anubis House. The place is already teeming with students."

"I'll sleep on the floor or the couch," she offers swiftly, sitting up straighter in her chair, "please." Mr Sweet appears momentarily taken aback by the sweetness of her voice as she unashamedly begs to be given permission to stay. The severity of her desperation stops Mr Sweet in his train of thought and Patricia can almost see him consider it for the first time.

"I don't know, Ms Williamson. Your parents..." She perks up at this, donning a smile Patricia has seen utilised plenty of times in her life. Piper is the most convincing person she knows, that innocent smile is the best arsenal she has in her tool kit.

"Have already agreed," she procures a slip from what Patricia is sure was thin air, signed at the bottom by two scrawled signatures she recognises from her school reports. This is her ace card, Patricia knows.

Mr Sweet takes his time reading over it slowly, going over the words Patricia has to assume were written by their father, although how Piper managed to persuade them is beyond her.

"Perhaps," he says, looking up fleetingly at the twins, "that is where you should be. Home would seem the most-"

He is cut off suddenly, the end of his sentence drowned out by the door slamming loudly against the wall and Eddie storming in, scowling deeply.

"Dad! You've got to talk to Ms Pike. She's got it out-" he stops dead only a pace away from the desk as his eyes land on Patricia, "Oh. Patricia."

"Hello Weasel," she replies, smirking.

"Edison," Mr Sweet's voice is tight and curt as Patricia watches his son squirm under her gaze, "the Williamson sisters and I were discussing something of great importance."

At this Eddie's face contorts into a frown and he pulls away from Patricia, moving to her sister. For a moment he seems confused, before he rolls his eyes up and lets out an exasperated huff.

"Come on, Dad. You know you'll just let her stay either way," Eddie insists, turning to his father. The room falls silent, Piper staring at Eddie like he's just grown another head. Mr Sweet regards him for a moment before sighing loudly and Patricia can see her sister's mood visibly pick up.

"Fine, fine," he says, crumpling the letter into ball in his fist and tossing it into his rubbish bin, "one week, Piper."

She squeals loudly as Patricia rises, nodding her gratitude to Mr Sweet and grabbing her sister's arm, pulling her out of the office after her.

"Thank you," Piper calls over her shoulder, clapping three times, rapidly, beaming. Behind her, she can hear Eddie chortling in amusement as he pushes the door closed, winking wryly after her.

* * *

He grabs her as she goes to follow Joy into the dining room for dinner that evening, pulling her onto the stairs that lead to the basement. Piper is already downstairs, regaling everyone with tales of their successful expedition to secure her a week at Anubis House. A camp bed is already set up in Patricia's room, her suitcase emptied into a part of the wardrobe Mara and Joy cleared for her. She's settling in quickly, Patricia notices.

His mouth is on hers before she manages to say a word, pushing her up against the wall, the patter of running feet on the stairs above blocking out the load moan she emits as he encircles her waist.

"I missed this at lunch," he whispers as they pull back for air, "detention was unbearable."

He leans back in, snatching another kiss as she smirks.

"What, sixty year old Ms Pike doesn't do it for you?" Patricia murmurs, smiling against his lips as he presses her even harder against the wood panels, digging her nails into his shoulder. He chuckles against her, the vibrations rolling off her as he pushes his hands up under her t-shirt.

"Don't get me wrong, she's quite the turn on," he trails kisses down her jaw, hoisting her legs around his waist, lifting her up to his height, "but she's got nothing on that tattoo."

His hands move to her shoulders, his fingers tapping gently across her blades, her back falling into his touch.

"What is it with you and the tattoo?" She finds it amusing, his fascination, as he tugs the collar of her casual attire back to reveal the small patch of ink. He shrugs, taking his eyes from her body to her face, his nose brushing hers.

"It's sexy," he answers and before she can take another breath he is back kissing her, fiercely. His tongue traces the outline of her lips tantalizingly slowly as she sighs into the kiss. She vaguely registers Joy calling for her from outside but cannot bring herself to care much.

"I swear," she hears, loudly, from the other side of the door, "she came downstairs with me."

There is lower, inaudible conversation before Patricia hears her own sister tell them she's probably just upstairs, grabbing a jumper.

Eddie is kissing down her neck, peppering them down from her ear. When he realises she is not totally engrossed in him, he bites down, hard, and she can barely contain the groan of pleasure she wants to shout. She squeezes his shoulder, throwing her head back.

"Eddie," she murmurs and his head flies up, his eyes on her again. He watches her for a moment and Patricia almost thinks he wants to say something to her before he smiles and backs away.

"Dinner," he gestures towards the general direction of outside of the top of the basement stairs. He has his hand on the doorknob when Patricia grabs his wrist, bringing him back for a second. He looks at her expectantly.

"Thanks," she says, quickly, "for earlier. With my sister."

He smiles at her, nodding, before opening the door, peering out into the hall and disappearing from sight.

* * *

"Where were you?" Joy demands as soon as she follows Eddie into the dining room, taking her seat at the far end of the table. She knows her t-shirt must be a little askew, if definitely not crumpled, and she doesn't have the proffered excuse of a cardigan.

"Bathroom," Patricia answers easily, lowering herself into her seat and sending Eddie a look. That bite is going to show.

"So, Piper, how'd you convince Sweetie to let you stay?" Mara asks the question while piling pasta onto her plate. Patricia grabs some salad, glancing at her sister.

She's stuffing leaves into her mouth before Piper swallows loudly and responds.

"I forged a letter from my parents."

Patricia can feel the breathe catch in her throat and she begins to choke on the leaves of her dinner. Jerome and Alfie are laughing, leaning across the table top to give Piper high fives, while Joy stares, her eyes wide and Mara drops her fork. Eddie appears torn, he turns to Patricia raising his eyebrows in question. She just shrugs before scrapping her chair back and rises. As she moves towards the hallway, she grabs her twin by the shirt collar, pulling her towards the stairs. She can feel the irritation building.

"Piper," she explains, "I need to talk to you."

As soon as they are alone, in their room, Patricia explodes.

"What do you think you doing?" she screams, slamming a hand into Piper's arm. She is furious. She went out on a limb for her sister today and all she's done is lie to her, "do you understand what you've done?"

Patricia wants to slap away the look on Piper's face as she crosses her arm defiantly. All she can see is Eddie's face at dinner as it turned questioningly to her, and she knows for certain that him barging in that afternoon was not a happy coincidence. Eddie orchestrated that on purpose.

Patricia doesn't feel with dealing with the fact that Eddie went out of his way to help her, for no real, solid reason other than general decency. That's a thought for another moment.

The implications are not worth considering

"All I did was play your game," Piper retorts, thrusting her chin high, "you lie all the time."

"Yes!" Patricia's reply is fast to her tongue as she steps closer to her sister, invading her space, "but for myself. If Eddie's Dad finds out that we lied about that letter, I could be expelled."

Piper's eyes do not waver as Patricia shouts, watching her sister with a cool detachment neither are used to. Patricia is shocked, even more than she is angry. She never knew her sister could be so selfish.

"I've half a mind to call Mum and Dad and tell them what's happened," Patricia threatens, leaning further in to her sister, her eyes flashing. She can see Piper falter for a second, unsure under such an intense scrutiny, "I'll even tell your school, let them know you're on your way back to your talented peers. Tell me, is back stabbing your siblings a trait you all share, or are you the special chosen one?"

Piper is looking at her sister, in an eerily calm manner, disturbing Patricia. She is struck with the sudden notion of how different them actually are. The freckle under Piper's left eye, the lack of piercings, the way Patricia smiles crookedly and Piper's is all teeth and dimples.

"You won't ask Mummy and Daddy to take me back," it's moments later when Piper decides to speak, narrowing her eyes, naked of all Patricia's black liner, "or else I'll tell everyone about you and Eddie."

* * *

**I hope you liked it. I can't believe I got this out on time (although, technically it's not Saturday where I am). **

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed it. **

**Reviews are much appreciated, as always... **

**-D**


	5. Some Nights

**First of all, the response to the last chapter was overwhelming. It was so lovely to hear from so many of you, but also from some of my personal favourite authors. Each and every review just makes my day. I really do appreciate it. **

**Secondly, I'd just like to say to those who keep asking for more frequent updates, while I really really love your enthusiasm for the story, I'm afraid it's not really possible. I'm in an important year right now and I don't have the spare time to write more often than I do. I'm glad you guys take the time every Saturday to read and review, but I just don't have any more time to churn more chapters out. The point of the Saturday updates are to make sure you guys are never disappointed by a lack of new chapters. Thank you for understanding. **

**Anyways, thank you so much for reading. Do enjoy :)**

* * *

"_Some night I wish that my lips could build a castle, some night I wish they'd just fall off." –Fun._

* * *

Patricia glares at her sister from the opposite end of the library. Amber had quickly dumped her on the catering group, just as soon Piper expressed an interest in lending a hand to the organisation of the dance. Although, Patricia has no idea why. It's not like she'll be around for it anyway.

Willow seems excited about it though, the prospect of another team member, especially one as excitable as she. She'd squealed and grabbed Eddie's arm, squeezing it, trilled with the idea. It had taken him nearly a full minute to shake her off.

Now, Piper and Willow have their heads together over what Patricia assumes is the checklist that Willow had drawn up in the days since their last meeting. Their hair mingles together, Willow's mouse brown and Piper's deep brown, streaked with hints of auburn. Eddie is seated alone at the table, copying a recipe in shorthand. Although, Patricia must admit, he does not look happy about it.

"Yacker," he greets, raising a hand, as she approaches him, dropping her bag on to the floor and pulling out a chair.

"Slimeball," she returns, smirking slightly at him before gesturing to Piper and Willow, "what're they doing?" Eddie glances up from his work, first at Patricia then over at the other pair, who erupt in obnoxiously loud laughter.

"Who knows? Definitely not anything productive. Probably lusting after a member of an auto-tuned boy band." He snorts, pushing a second book across to Patricia, who spots the small, luminous stickers poking out the top, "Start copying."

She knows by the red covers that these are the kind of books Jasper, the librarian, won't let them take home to use while they prepare the goods in the days leading up the evening in question. According to Willow, however, these are the best recipes. Patricia sometimes wonders if she's becoming purposely irritating.

"You don't like One Direction?" Patricia asks, mock surprise dripping from her every word, "Shocking."

"Over rated pop is not really my scene," he replies, as Patricia flips her book open to the first indexed page. Scoffing internally at the recipe name (Cheerful Christmas Cupcakes) she watches Eddie writing for a moment. He's not really concentrating, his handwriting is far loopier and scrawled than normal, the pen barely grazing the page as he scribbles.

She hasn't told him yet. It's been two whole days since her sister unloaded her threat, they've had three clandestine meetings since, two at school and one in the upstairs bathroom at Anubis House, but she hasn't got the nerve to tell him. This whole time, for three solid months, their snogging has been a secret only they shared. They always agreed never to let it slip, keep it between each other and things remained simple. Third parties would only complicate things.

So, she doesn't know quite what to do. She doesn't even really know what to think herself. Of course Piper would figure it out. They've never suffered from twin telepathy, but they spent the majority of their formative years together, when Piper wasn't off practicing or performing and Patricia wasn't getting into mischief. Piper was always better at reading the signs too. She was always champion at getting her way. Patricia shouldn't have been surprised that she noticed the looks and the sudden disappearances, the covert explanations.

She feels oddly detached, knowing somebody else is in on what was once hers.

She settles down, digging out a pen and begins taking down ingredients and step-by-step instructions. Flour. Eggs. Sugar. They work in comfortable silence for a while, the tapping of a foot on the floor or the scratch of pen on paper drowning out the chattering from the library's only other occupiers.

Then Willow's phone begins to ring, loudly, a vaguely familiar pop song that Patricia doesn't know the name of blasting from her pocket. Piper immediately begins to sing along, loudly, and Patricia wonders for the first time how someone who is so invested in classical music can like that type of cheesy, mass produced garbage. Wasn't their some rule about musicians like Piper detesting anything from this century?

"Of course that's her cell's ringtone," Eddie complains, looking up as the both girls leave, Willow with her phone glued to one ear and Piper following behind, whispering in the other. The door slams loudly behind them.

"It's called a mobile, idiot," Patricia snaps back immediately, then nods, "tell me about it. Joy listens to that stuff all the time." Eddie groans, tossing his pen down and leaning back in his chair, swinging on the legs. Patricia is beginning to notice that he has a particular talent for appearing utterly relaxed.

"Can't say I envy you," she glares at him in fake anger, "so pray tell, what does Patricia Williamson deem worthy of her ear drums?"

She finds it slightly bizarre, the sound of her full name in his voice. He says it strangely, in that thick American accent.

"Sick Puppies, The Beatles," she says, as he appraises her from across the table, "The Paper Kites."

She pauses for a second, considering his reaction, his raised eyebrows and the turned up corners of his mouth.

"Just not Justin Beiber," she insists and with that he laughs out loud, his teeth showing briefly. In the most disturbingly baffling moment of her life, she wonders if other girls ever make him laugh like that.

"'Featherstone' is a pretty awesome song," he admits, his chair landing heavily on the wooden floor with a thump, his forearms, bare because of his rolled up sleeves, tensing to catch his weight on the edge of the table. He appears proud of himself, like he's met some kind of goal as Patricia gapes, bewildered.

"You like The Paper Kites?" she asks, watching him for any kind of teasing or mockery. He nods.

"The Sick Puppies and The Beatles too. Although, who doesn't like The Beatles?" he says it in the same incredulous tone Patricia uses when she asks her roommates the same question.

Having lived with Joy, Mara and KT for so long now, she's almost forgotten that other people might share her music tastes. She's become used to her songs being cut off in favour of the bitter sweet renditions of Taylor Swift. Yet, Eddie is deadly serious. He is not joking. He likes the same bands as she does.

Patricia is shocked by how suddenly she wants to kiss him. She is around the table before she has a moment to think about what she is doing, her lips on his, her legs around his hips. He lets out a small, clipped breath, his arms wrapping over her waits, pulling her body to his. Her body moves beneath his hands as she moves hers to his face, pulling it ever closer as she invades his mouth with her tongue. His skin is soft on hers.

Her shirt is off before she realises, his follows immediately. He lifts her up onto the table, gripping onto her hips and picking her up with ease. Today, he notes, she is wearing deliciously red underwear, with strains against the rapidness of her breathing.

He pushes against her gently, so she falls back onto the table top and he is hovering above her, kissing her a dozen times in quick succession. The wood of the table is hard against her back, but warm. She moans loudly into the silent air as he kisses down the arch of her neck as she pushes her body into his.

"Is that a hickey I see?" her hand flies to her neck as he laughs, she is caught off guard. She'd done her best this morning to cover it up, layering it with more foundation than she normally wears in a week.

"That's just about as sexy as the tattoo," he murmurs, kissing the spot lightly, before moving to her lips again. She pulls away slowly, teasingly laying a brief peck on his cheek before pushing herself up off the table and lowering her lips to his neck and down, spattering kisses along the top of his chest as her hands explore. His are on her ass, squeezing roughly every time she nips at his skin.

"Yacker," he says as she works her way further down, her fingernails scraping against the wall that is his muscles, "Patricia." His breath is raspy, his voice low as she pulls back glancing up at him through thick eyelashes.

"They could come back," he gestures to the door, his words heavy as she suddenly crashes back to reality. This is not longer her secret. Their secret. Whatever this is already feels violated by Piper's knowledge, she doesn't want it further tainted by Willow knowing it too.

"Is something wrong?" his question startles her, breaking her from her reverie. She wonders momentarily if she's always this obvious, seeing as both Piper and Eddie are able to read the emotions plainly on her face, but she dismisses it. Joy hasn't a inkling of her and Eddie's special relationship, and they are best friends.

"Piper. She knows."

Eddie's face falls immediately and Patricia feels an unprecedented stabbing sensation in her gut momentarily. It passes and she rises, taking her shirt from the table and pulling it back on, ensuring the buttons go high enough to cover her cleavage. Heaven forbid her twin should know exactly when they've been snogging.

"How did she-?"

"I don't know. I guess she noticed us sneaking off," she grumbles, throwing her head onto his presently naked shoulder. They still stand close together, his groin pressed into her hips, her legs tangled amongst his.

"Bollocks," he says, "we need to be more careful." He looks so serious, the skin between his eyebrows creasing, but she just snickers.

"What?" he asks, his face relaxing, slightly, as she chuckles against him.

"You said bollocks," she laughs, "you sounded so British."

"Crap," he curses, "this is all my Dad's fault. He keeps making me watch English movies."

"Well, you're picking up the slang," she points out, trailing her fingers slowly down his chest, distracted by the way it rises as he talks.

"Actually," he says and she is shocked by the sudden movement as he straightens, turning to redress himself, pushing his arms up into the sleeves, "I could do that you know. Talk to my Dad. Have her sent home. I mean he's a little annoyed at me because of the whole Ms Pike thing but-"

"No," Patricia stops him short, holding up a hand. This is too casual, too easy. Too friendly. They do not act like this around one another, "no, no, no. Stop. I'm sorry. I started it, but we do not do this. We do not discuss personal things with each other because the most pressingly annoying thing in my life is you." She sort of means it as a joke but it comes out a lot harsher than intended. Even she is surprised by her tone.

He stares at her for a moment and she can't exactly grasp what his expression means. It is a mixture of disbelief, she thinks, and something else, something she's never seen on his face before. He just nods, grabs his bag and is gone before she even has a chance to blink.

* * *

She arrives at their usual place the next day at lunch time to find the room empty. She hadn't gotten the opportunity to speak to Eddie yesterday evening after he'd left the library, but assumed things would still go ahead. She sits on a desk three rows back, dangling her legs, the heels of her boots knocking off the wood in an disjointed beat while she trawls the internet on her phone, all while listening to music which blares through her headphones.

She waits for the entirety of their lunch break.

He doesn't turn up.

She thinks perhaps she may have said the wrong thing.

* * *

**Well, there you are. Another chapter out on time :) This was very much about developing their relationship outside of the whole with benefits thing. **

**And perhaps the introduction of some deeper feelings ;) **

**Anyways, thanks so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. **

**As always reviews are appreciated. **

**Until next week. **

**-D**


	6. Come Back, Be Here

**I would just like to say that all the feedback I get from this story is fantastic and wonderful and I love it and it really is fantastic. I am so grateful. **

**I'm not too sure if I'm entirely satisfied with this chapter, but, how or never, here it is. I might replace it next week if I still hate it, we'll see.**

**On another note, they had a lovely moment in the new episode. I thought it was nice to see them interact again without biting one another's heads off. Although, I am starting to think that perhaps Patricia could be a little easier on him. She's kind of harsh. :P**

**Hope you enjoy :)**

* * *

"_And now that I can't put this down, if I had known what I know now, I wouldn't have played so nonchalant." –Taylor Swift_

* * *

"Is there something up between the two of you?" Piper's whisper is low as she approaches her sister from behind, startling Patricia as they make their way down to the school. Between their similar appearance and the large crowd of Anubis students, they get lost. Piper's hand is on Patricia's arm, who scowls fiercely at her twin.

"What?" she snaps, pulling away from her sister, "No. I told you, there is nothing going on between us. He's vile." Piper, for her part, raises a trimmed eyebrow at Patricia and scoffs daintily.

"Yes, there is," she corrects, that indignantly factual voice that Mara sometimes dons when talking to Jerome and raises her hand to gesture in a not so subtle manner at Eddie, "and normally around this time you too would be arguing loudly about something ridiculous."

Patricia glances away from Piper and towards Eddie. It's true, she hasn't said anything to him since he stood her up yesterday at lunch, but it's not like they had a written contract. If he couldn't make it, she was totally cool with it. She'll get over it. What's bothering her is his silence. He's walking ahead of everyone else, his hands stuffed into his trouser pockets, headphones on, just in case anyone would dare to try and chat with him. He combs his hair with his fingers intermittingly, scowling to himself.

Piper's right, ordinarily they would be fighting on their way to school, probably over something to do with his bad taste in sports or her incessant need to pour liquids over his head at breakfast. However, she couldn't really bring herself to ignite an argument this morning as they all occupied the dining room, even when he insisted on pouring half the bottle of maple syrup over his pancakes.

"Even Joy's noticed," Piper continues, widening her eyes in feigned dramatics, "Joy!"

Patricia can't help but crack a smile at her sister, who playfully nudges her with her elbow, giggling. Even prior to Piper's Anubis House, they'd always agreed she was obscenely gullible. It's one of few things they never disputed.

"No, but seriously," Piper resumes, slowly down so that they fall behind the group a little, out of earshot of the other girls who trail at the back, "what is going on between the two of you?"

Regarding her sister for a moment, Patricia sighs in defeat.

"It's nothing, okay?" she huffs, "We needed people to take out our frustrations on. It was just a perfect solution. No strings attached. We got what we needed without getting hurt."

If Piper is disgusted she does an excellent job suppressing it as she returns Patricia's gaze steadily. Patricia can hardly believe she's told someone and her whiny, perfection seeking sister at that. But as Piper smiles at her, she can't say she's not relieved.

"Don't judge me," she says slowly after a moment of silence, pushing her way through the swinging doors and into the warmth of the school.

"Patricia, I'm not going to judge you," they're sharing a locker so as Patricia pulls hers open Piper begins to throw her books, the weight of them landing heavily on the metal, "all I know is that, before now, every boy you've ever been with lasted about a week. You and Eddie have been at this now for what, a year? Two?"

Patricia would've laughed if her day had been going well, it's so absurd.

"More like two _months_," she says incredulously, grabbing her English book, "or three. Whatever. Not years."

Piper regards her sister for a moment, solemnly.

"Two years or two months... Either way," Patricia grabs hold of the locker, closing it over gently as Piper moves towards their history lesson, still speaking, "it's worth thinking about."

* * *

He's with Jerome, Alfie and Fabian during their lunch break when she sneaks up behind him, shoving him into the nearest classroom. If the other notice, they don't say anything, she near no shouts of protest or musings about her incomprehensible actions. Although, generally, they do know better than to ask when it comes to Patricia.

She slams the door behind her before turning to Eddie, who, she must admit, is looking a little off today. His hair is messy and not in the kind of way it usually ends up after they've spent some alone time together, but rather, in the kind of way that he never ran a brush over it after he got up and his shirt is ridiculously wrinkled.

"What happened to you yesterday?" she hisses at him and to her infuriation he shrugs noncommittally, lowering himself into the teacher's chair. He swings back and forth, his eyes never resting on anything for more than a second

"I was busy," he says, continuing to glance around the room, tapping his fingers off the desktop and sighing, "you know. Things to do. People to see. Food to eat."

She just stares as he smiles to himself and for one awful moment she sees the horrible arrogance again, the kind he used to walk around wearing, especially during his first year, before Fabian let it slip about Mr Sweet being Eddie's Dad and he got really close with his fellow residents. It was the kind of attitude that had disgusted Patricia, despite the uneasy fact that she probably dished it back to him in spades. The kind that meant chip up, eyes first, I'm-too-good-for-anybody-here.

When they returned after the following summer things had been different. Still a year prior to any of this snogging business starting, things settled down. They still argued all the time; she stole his food and he once replaced her shampoo with hair dye in what was possibly his most immature and unoriginal prank to date. They still aggravated each other, much to the chagrin of their house mates, especially when they'd march downstairs early in the morning screaming something about missing pancakes. They stopped being cruel though. There were no bitingly honest remarks about the current state of her face or about how his absolute inability to procure a girlfriend was probably related to his Daddy issues. She'd continued to hate him, but they stopped being cruel.

There is something vaguely cruel tingeing the way he is acting now.

She can feel it rising, the find of inexplicable frustration that he always seems to evoke, that builds in her throat and causes her mouth to go dry.

"I waited," she protests, loudly, taking an angry step towards him. He lifts his shoulder again, dropping them heavily as he roots through the utensils lying on Ms Pike's desk. It's odd, the way the feeling of wanting to grab him and kiss him has disappeared, vanished along with the air of mutual indifference they've only recently adopted. She finds more than she wants to push him up against the wall and rip his shirt off, she wishes he would look at her or kiss her or even just acknowledge her presence. It is simply the most bizarre feeling she's had about this how debacle since it started. But perhaps, she briefly thinks, it's possibility the most sincere.

"Why won't you look at me?" she asks, her voice low and husky. She is surprised by quite how delicate it sounds. He raises his eyes to look at her squarely in the eyes. She's never seen them so hard and dark and _scary_, not even when she used to insult his parentage or his hair. She shifts gently under his gaze but holds it.

For a split second the atmosphere is as tangible as it was that first day in the empty detention classroom as she shouted at him about being such a bloody idiot or something equally unimportant. Except this time he does not storm towards and take her face in his hands and kiss her wildly. Instead he pulls away from their standoff and strides to the door. He pauses for a moment, sparing her one more glance as he opens the door.

"I'm just trying not to be so pressingly annoying anymore, Patricia."

She can only watch, dumbstruck, as he leaves.

* * *

They sit in silence in the library, Patricia surreptitiously doing her homework when she's supposed to be copying more recipes and searching for new ones. Eddie sits across from her, eyes trained to his phone again. Today, however, they do not tease each other about one another's music tastes or the fact that Patricia's sister is such an odd musical paradox of a person.

For the first time in a long time, she feels awkward around a boy who has seen her half naked, all because he's not staring at her intently. She's sure that's ironic somehow but all she can concentrate on is the fact that he still won't engage with her and how his voice sound as he spat her words back at her earlier that afternoon. He sounded upset.

He didn't even laugh at Willow's incessant perkiness this afternoon when they arrived, didn't shake her off when she clung to his arm. There is some part of her that thinks this is ridiculous her unwavering worry, they way she keeps trying to goad him into speaking to her. It's a little pathetic.

But then she remembers the way his brow furrowed and his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed at what she said and she decides to be brave for one solitary moment.

"Eddie, look, I'm sorry," she murmurs, desperate for Willow and Piper not to hear them speaking.

"What?" Eddie's head shoots up and Patricia's sure she's never seen him look so surprised.

"I said I'm sorry," she repeats in a whisper, "I didn't mean what I said to come out the way it did."

"You're _sorry_?" she almost laughs at how deep his American accent sounds in his disbelief, but she doesn't because he's back looking at her again and she's not about to risk that for anything, "you, Patricia Williamson, are sorry?"

It's there again, the sound of her full name on his voice, and she smiles a little, tentatively, as he regards her with the oddest expressions she's ever seen, the kind even she can't read.

"Krueger?" she questions, leaning forward onto the table, up and out of her chair, to the point where she can get the hint of that familiar smell that winds its way onto her belongings as they snog, "are you alright?"

He just stares blankly back, astounded.

"What?!" Patricia tears her eyes from Eddie and looks over to her sister, who's mouth is hanging open, her eyes wide as she watches Willow skip over to the table, doing that annoyingly frequent rapid clapping.

"Did you hear the good news, Patricia?" Willow cries happily, leaning in to hug Patricia before the taller girl pushes her away pointedly. On the fringes of her attention, she hears Eddie curse loudly and hears the push of hard wood off the floor, "Eddie's asked me to the dance! Isn't it wonderful!"

* * *

**What?! :O**

**Anyways, as always, I hope you enjoyed it. **

**Reviews are appreciated. **

**I feel you probably all think you know why Eddie asked Willow to the dance, but have no fear, I have a trick card up my sleeve ;)**

**Much love **

**-D.**


	7. Samson

**I have to tell you, the reviews for the last chapter astounded me. There were so many and I just truly truly love them. They inspire me to write so much. **

**One reviewer pointed out that the last chapter was quite short (which it was, shortest chapter I think) and that he/she wished the story was longer. Well I tried my best with this one. I don't think it's my longest, per say, but it is definitely longer than last week. :)**

**I'm quite excited about this one, it's a little different. And full of lots of progression. ;)**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

"_You are my sweetest downfall. I loved you first, I loved you first." –Regina Spektor_

* * *

Patricia believes that at some forgotten point she must have been pleasant to Willow for a moment, because the girl now seems to believe they are best friends. She chatters constantly in Patricia's ear, useless details about a dance Patricia feels less and less like attending. Things about dresses and colour coordination and, once, something about Eddie buying her a corsage.

Patricia's starting to think she deserves a sainthood just for _not_ shouting rude and possibly unsavoury things at her fellow student.

She finds it odd, those next couple of days, not sneaking off to be with Eddie even though she still sees him everywhere. When she's at home, he's lounging on the couch or making pancakes. Sometimes, he's even in her room because he and KT are working on some kind of project for a class she's not in. When she's in school, he's sitting two desks away from her or passing her in the corridors.

Or talking with Willow.

To top it all off, Piper seems to have got it into her head that Patricia needs some sort of body guard to follow her around half the time and text her for updates the rest. Really, she doesn't quite understand her concern. She's fine.

A little put out. But fine.

It's not like she ever even conceived the notion of attending the dance with Eddie. She'd just thought that she'd head over with Joy and KT and Mick. Anyone without a date really. She'd assumed he'd conjure up a date from somewhere, one of those other girls who giggled every time he walked past. She'd just never considered Willow. He didn't even _like_ Willow. He complained about her all the time.

He called her a cockblock.

Not that she cares. She gets on with school and her homework and finds she actually enjoys having the time to catch up with her friends at lunch on a Friday. Still, she can't say she's not relieved when Sunday rolls around and she does not have to go to school or to the library with her team or step foot outside her bedroom except for excursions to the bathroom or food gathering expeditions.

The rest of the populace of Anubis House have gone out for the day, headed into town to shop or go to the cinema. Piper stayed home, not having permission to leave campus and is practising in Amber's room, having to prepare for her imminent return to music college. She feels relived to be _alone_ for the first time in what feels like eternity, left to lean back against her headboard and blast music so loudly she can't even hear herself think.

"Patricia," his voice shocks her out of her reverie some time just before lunch and she nearly falls off the bed to find him standing before her, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans, material of his well-worn hoodie stretched by the muscles in his arms.

"Whoops, sorry," he lunges forward to steady her, before she can blink he has his hand on her arm and the other on her waist, catching her before she slips off the edge completely. They linger on her for a second. She's oddly put out by the feeling of him touching her for completely platonic reasons.

She murmurs something in response, pushing herself up off the bed to stand before him, dusting herself off nervously. She fidgets with the sleeve of her cardigan, as he jostles from foot to foot, shifting his weight.

"I didn't know you were home," she says after a moment, staring at the floor and wondering why on earth she chose today to wear her googly-eyed owl socks.

"Yeah," he says, shrugging, "part of my punishment from Ms Pike, town privileges revoked for the weekend."

She nods, biting her lip, "so, did you need something?"

"Oh, yeah," he takes a step closer to her, smiling, "yeah."

The room falls silent again.

"Well, Miller," she says in a voice heavy with impatience and she can feel the frustration rise because now she can _smell_ him again and that had never ended well for her before and she's pretty sure if she doesn't untangle herself from the situation immediately something will happen and she will regret it almost instantaneously, "what?"

He stares at her for a moment, softly, his brown eyes thoughtful and he blinks slowly like he's afraid that when he opens his eyes again she'll be gone.

"Yeah," he repeats, "screw it."

His hand is soft on her skin as he runs it up her neck to her cheek and grasps both of them gently, his eyes never wavering. She can feel something odd in the pit of her stomach as he watches her, gently studying her face for something she does not know the name of.

"Wow," he says it so low that if they were any further away from each other she wouldn't have heard it. Before she has a chance to fully grasp what he's said or to react his lips are on hers and they are so gentle and this is unlike anything they've ever done before.

Her hands whisper around his back and pull him to her, so that she is pressed up against him and her heart is beating against his chest loudly. He kisses her hundreds of times, small, simple ones that make this seem like whole thing is suddenly, completely, wholly innocent. His hands stay on her face and don't wander. It is slow and the kind of passionate Patricia's never experienced before.

"Eddie," she whispers against him, pulling back to search his eyes again. Then they are kissing once more and her fingertips trace the outline of his jaw, the way his cheekbone curves to meet his neck and how insanely warm his whole being is against hers.

Then his hands are slowly pushing her cardigan off her shoulders, never releasing her lips, so that he can feel the goose bumps that are scattered on her skin.

Then carefully, cautiously, they pull their tops off over one another's heads and for the first time she really takes a long moment to truly appreciate how fit he is and how his hands are somehow so delicately kind to the coolness of her skin as he maps the planes of her back, ignoring her tattoo and vigilantly makes sure to outline each one of her ribs.

Just when she thinks, perhaps, maybe, they'll just about destroy each other with how _tender _it is, the door creaks open and they jump apart.

"Eddie!" Piper's voice is high-pitched and intensely surprised, as she stands in the doorway, staring at the two of them, "Patricia!"

They both scramble quickly, searching for clothes and Patricia finds herself pulling his hoodie on over her bare shoulders and he tugs on his t-shirt. She knows she must look somewhat sheepish as he sister stands, hands over her eyes, waiting for them to redress.

"Are you decent?" she asks and Patricia makes an incomprehensible affirmative sound before Piper tentatively peeks through her fingers. Patricia can feel the blush rising up her neck and to her cheeks.

"What are you doing?" Piper asks the question after what Patricia must assuming is collectively the most awkward moment of all their lives, ever. She sounds so disapproving and incredulous that both Patricia and Eddie cringe simultaneously, "you've just asked _another _girl to a dance!"

She gestures at Eddie then turns to Patricia, her movement rapid.

"What about the girl code? I know you're not particularly fond of her, but Willow has feelings too, you know."

It hangs in the air for a moment and, suddenly, surprisingly, Patricia can feel the shame spread and she wants to pull her headphones back on and drown out this utterly disconcerting feeling.

"This is wrong," she looks up at Eddie and shakes her head and before she knows it, he is gone and out the door as quickly as he arrived.

Her sister remains in the door, watching her with disbelieving eyes.

"Piper," she whispers desperately, "I'm sorry... I didn't mean... I just."

Patricia can't quite grasp which would be worse, Piper screaming at her or the way she does look at her, like she almost pities her. She nods, once, before closing the door and leaving Patricia alone.

* * *

Her sister leaves the next morning in a frenzy of packing and repacking and losing what Patricia thinks is her flute, but she could be entirely wrong. Her stuff piles up at the door, along with an assortment of other things Amber and Trudy have piled on her. Her suitcase is decorated with an array of sticky notes, ones that contain links to Nina's profile page or Mara's email.

She's excited, Patricia knows, because she was bouncing in her seat at breakfast. She thinks maybe it's been good for Piper to be here for a little while, to get to see all the drama and gossip she's avoiding at music school. As well as just how talented she and her peers really are.

"_Seriously Patricia," _she'd remarked, her voice low in a stage whisper, _"all anyone is dedicated to is Halo and Call of Duty. It's disheartening." _

Patricia can't say she'll miss her horribly, but it was amusing to have her around. Plus, she's no idea how'll she'll survive to this dance on Friday without her, because, regardless of how irritating she might sometimes be, at least she knows. All Patricia can think about now is watching Willow croon over Eddie for the next week without having somebody to complain to.

Everybody says their goodbyes in a flurry of hugs and air kisses and shouts of "I expect an email this evening Piper!" from KT. Even Willow turns up to coo sad lines about missing her terribly and what an awful shame it is that she has to leave so soon.

Patricia hangs back though, she's excused from her first lesson to help Piper pack up the taxi and send her on her way. She's sitting on bottom steps of the stairs, Piper standing across from her as they wait and Patricia knows Piper wants to ask her about Eddie and what's going on, but because she's asked her not to, she won't.

"Patty," Piper speaks up as the time is nearing half past and she propels herself off the wall to go and sit alongside her twin sister, "for what it's worth, I am sorry I threatened you with the whole Eddie thing. I'm sorry I lied, too. It could have landed you in seriously deep trouble. It all just happened the wrong way."

Patricia is surprised, she'd almost forgotten about the letter what with everything going on between the preparations and this whole mess she's gotten herself entangled in.

But Piper looks genuinely sorry, guilty even and Patricia is struck by a thought she so very rarely has; sometimes, she and Piper are so similar it's frightening. In the way they laugh, in the slight crinkle of their nose when they're irked by something. The way that they can never stay mad at one another, no matter how many vastly opposite traits they might possess.

"That's alright," Patricia replies, smiling and shrugging, "you were desperate. I get that."

"Thanks."

They sit in silence then, watching the clock and listening to Trudy humming songs in the kitchen as she washes up after breakfast.

Patricia wonders often how they got like this, siblings who cannot even find enough conversation to muster up for five minutes of small talk. They were close once, she thinks, way back before boarding school and orchestras were an option and Patricia still felt like maybe her parents loved them both equally.

It had been a long time since she evolved into the troubled one, the snarky one, the mean one. The bad one, as her Dad called her once, when she announced over a family dinner with her grandparents and aunts and uncles that she was, in fact, giving up organised religion. Maybe they stopped talking so often because Piper stopped wanting to associate with the girl who got her first detention on her first day at boarding school because she refused to say grace over dinner. That was St Anne's Grammar School, the first in a line of three before she ended up at Anubis.

But maybe it was because Patricia made all of that up in her head, all those ideas about Piper not wanting to be her friends. Maybe it was because Patricia announced she was moving out of their shared bedroom and into one of her own because she 'disliked the constant racket'. Maybe it was because Patricia was jealous for one horrible moment in time.

A car horn beeps outside and they both stand in unison, Patricia grabs her suitcase and drags it out to the taxi, lugs it into the back seat and goes back inside to say one last goodbye to a sister she'll see in a few weeks for Christmas anyway.

It's not sentimental, it never is. They just hug, an awkward pat on the back type scenario that has Patricia pulling away much too quickly.

Still, it's oddly sad to see her go.

"Patricia," Piper stops in the entrance way, music case in hand, bright scarf wrapped around her neck, sans tattoos or piercing; what Patricia might have been, once, "I didn't know because of how you kept sneaking off or anything."

For a moment Patricia is confused, leaning against the doorframe in her red and grey Anubis uniform, staring at her sister, before she realises what exactly her sister is delaying over.

"I didn't know because you kept disappearing," she repeats, taking one step back towards her twin, staring her right in her set of identical arctic blue eyes, "Or because he was gone too. It was the way you looked at him."

Patricia is sure that she looks affronted but Piper holds her gaze, keeps her cool, and Patricia is sure she is the single human being on the planet brave enough to say something this dangerous to her.

"And because of the way he looks at you."

With that she's gone, leaving behind only a discarded sticky note and her very confused twin sister.

* * *

**I've had that last part written since I begun the story. Piper was mostly in the story entirely so she could say that line. **

**Also, notice her tenses ;) Everything is said for definite reasons. **

**As always, I really do appreciate reviews. Especially this week. It's a busy time for me and they'll encourage me to get the next chapter out on time. :)**

**-D**


	8. If This Was A Movie

**Quick author's note. **

**Thank you so much for the reviews. Love them as always. **

**I dislike this chapter. I thought it was awkward and short and weird and ugh. But I really wanted to get something out to you on time. I'm off this week, so next Saturday's update should be better. But I do hope you enjoy this one. :)**

* * *

"_I __was playing back a thousand memories, baby, thinking about everything we've been through. Maybe I've been going back too much __lately, when time stood still and I had you." –Taylor Swift_

* * *

"And the catering is coming along swiftly, right Trix?"

Patricia snaps out of her daydream, pulling her eyes from her plate of potato wedges and chicken wrap to glance fleetingly at Amber. It's Wednesday, lunch time, and while Patricia is enjoying having the free time to chat with her friends, she is definitely not partial to the view she has to her left. Willow and Eddie, as they have for the past two days, are sitting at a table, eating together alone. Occasionally, they even laugh. Out loud. Simultaneously.

If Patricia disliked Willow's laugh before it was nothing compared to this. Every time she overhears them so much as speaking, she just about wants to rip the other girl's head off. Followed closely by Eddie's, of course.

"Yeah, sure," Patricia replies, grabbing a chips off Joy's plate and shoving it into her mouth. She sends a quick smile in Amber's general direction before grabbing her bag and rising from her chair.

All of this talk of dances and dates and fancy dresses is making her nauseous. Just fifteen minutes ago, Joy had begun describing, in minute detail, the difference between her mustard and sun yellow dresses, down to the last ruffle.

"Yeah," she repeats, tapping her hand off the tabletop, "I'm making the brownies tonight."

With that, she turns to leave. She's not really sure where exactly she's going to spend the rest of her free period, but she has to get out of the stifling cafeteria.

She wonders when it got to this. Honestly, she hadn't thought she was that bad, all those months, it just felt like what it was, heated skin on skin encounters, raspy voices and rough hands.

Now, though, there is something stirring in the pit of her stomach, something she doesn't quite understand, as she pushes out through the double doors and into the school's corridors. She's never felt like this before. At least not over a guy. Eddie no less.

_Jealous. _

It's a horribly matter of fact tone, that reminds her vaguely of Piper, that whispers it's way around the back of her mind as she watches them joke in class together.

It rose to a shout the one time Willow dared to touch him in front of her.

This is stupid, she thinks, pushing her way into an empty classroom. They'd discussed it from the beginning.

No feelings. No emotions.

Nobody gets hurt.

* * *

They'd been in detention, Patricia remembers, she'd gotten a Friday afternoon because she'd 'forgotten' to do her English homework. Truthfully, she'd just had no interest in the effect the Bennet's culture played in "Pride and Prejudice". She didn't even like the book. She certainly didn't want to prattle on for five pages about the benefits Elizabeth's marriage to Mr Darcy afforded her family.

So, that's how she ended up sitting a row away from Eddie Miller, alone, except for Mr Sweet, who was on duty. It had been awkward, and boring, to say the least. They'd never gotten on, from the moment he arrived. She was uncomfortable breathing the same air as him.

Then Mr Sweet had been called out by Ms Andrews for an errand or meeting or something. It had taken second for them to kick off. He'd flicked something at her head, or she'd made a flippant comment.

Something about his Mom, maybe.

"What the hell is your problem with me?" he'd asked, his voice raised. They were out of their seats in the blink of an eye, Eddie was in her face, his cheeks flaming red, "it's like you seriously spend time creating new methods of making my life miserable."

"Get over yourself, Slimeball," she spat back, "I've much better things to be doing than wasting my time thinking about you." His fists had clenched at that, she remembers, his eyes narrowing.

Then, suddenly, surprisingly, his face had relaxed, contorting from the anger right to a triumphant smirk. He'd leant in so close that she could've counted his light brown eyelashes and named all of the colours in his eyes. The corners of his lips turned up deliciously slowly, his breath tickled her ear, sending at shiver down her.

"Really?" he'd questioned, "because I'm pretty sure you think about me _all_ the time."

He'd winked at her, his voice heavy with innuendo she normally would've laughed off, but there was something about the feel of him nearly touching her that caught the chuckle in her throat.

Then, quickly, shockingly, she'd experienced a rush of flashbacks. They way he looked as he sauntered out of the bathroom after a shower, half naked. They subtle brushing of knees under the table.

Those abs.

Then, without premeditated thought or consideration of the consequences, she'd reached up, grabbed hold of his shirt collar and pulled him to her fiercely. His lips had felt like fire on hers, the heat of pent up frustrations and years of sexual tension. It had been a frenzy, a hot, messy snog that resulted in Patricia panting for breath and staring at Eddie like he'd grown two heads.

Eddie, for his part, had seemed entirely baffled by the situation too. He just looked right back at her, eyes wide, like he feared she was about to bite his head off.

They'd backed away from each other quickly, retreating to their own seats. It was only seconds before Mr Sweet had returned, his footsteps echoing along the empty hallways that Patricia turned back to Eddie.

"Meet me here, lunch time, on Monday. Alone," she'd hissed, her voice quiet, "do not tell a soul."

It was in between desperate kisses during their next rendezvous that Patricia suggested the no strings attached proposal. It went down well.

Thus began what Patricia had once genuinely believed to be an average with-benefits scenario. So, as she sits in that very same room from months before, munching on her sandwich quietly, alone, it comes as quite a surprise to her when she realises the truth.

She completely, utterly and undeniably has feelings for Eddie Miller.

Who likes someone else.

Patricia Williamson, effortless member of the elite 'alternative' group of her posh, pretentious boarding school has become her worst nightmare; a teenage cliché.

* * *

Joy sits on the counter in the Anubis kitchen, occasionally dipping a spoon into the large vats of uncooked brownie to test the mixture. She's recounting the story of Sven, a boy from Isis, asking her to go with him to the dance on Friday, an incident Patricia had missed due to her disappearance earlier at lunch.

She's starting to regret leaving the table at all as Joy begins describing what Sven had been wearing – their school uniform- while he asked her. At least if she'd endured Willow and Eddie, she wouldn't have to hear Joy debate over the colour of his blazer, which is the same wine maroon colour as everyone else's.

"Patricia?" she's spooning the brownish gloop into the cake tins when Joy hops down onto the floor and calls out to her, waving a hand in front of her eyes.

"Patricia," she repeats, "are you okay?" Joy is peering at her hard and Patricia can feel herself wanting to squirm.

It's all she can think about is her revelation and it's making her confused and angry and irked at herself more than anyone else. Joy is going to find out, she knows, if she keeps this up. Joy knows her better than anyone else.

"Yeah," she replies flippantly, "why?"

Joy is regarding her, her face impassive as Patricia returns to removing all the excess mixture from the bowls and wooden spoons.

"Patty," she says, tentatively, slowly, so that the vowels are drawn out, "is it about Eddie?"

Patricia almost drops her utensils as she takes a step back from Joy, astounded.

"Eddie?" she's flustered, she knows if Joy didn't know just a second before, she certainly knows now, "what about Eddie?"

"Patricia, I've know the whole time," Joy admits it like it might just have been about the darkest secret she's ever held on to. Patricia cannot even bring herself to look at her best friend, so she turns back again to her task, "Patricia, I couldn't help but know."

Joy looks incredibly guilty and Patricia considers moving to hug her before she decides against it. Joy's sure about the whole her and Eddie affair, that much is obvious, but Patricia isn't about to confirm her suspicions.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she answers, angrily beginning to whack at the metal of the mixing bowl. This feels like a horrible betrayal, like suddenly everyone around her has been keeping secrets from her, including herself, "but if I did, it doesn't matter. He likes Willow."

Joy scoffs incredulously, reclosing the gap between them. They stand in silence for a moment, neither offering up any semblance of an explanation.

"Why won't you fight for him?" Joy asks, placing a soft hand over Patricia's stilling her from continuing to harshly thump the wooden spoon off the side of the mixing bowl.

"Because he doesn't want me," Patricia insists, pulling her hand away, "and that's life."

"But Patricia," she implores, "you _like_ him. You've never liked a guy before. At least not enough to have him stick around for longer than a week."

She's a little miffed at how similar this is to her sister, how Piper has marvelled at the length of time she and Eddie had been going at it. Really, it wasn't that long.

However, she's probably more annoyed that she hadn't noticed it herself. Of course there had to be something different about Eddie. Before, she'd dismissed it as the nature of her relationship, but analysing it now, Patricia knows that she couldn't have stuck even her and Eddie's agreement out for more than a week with any of the other guys.

She should've known.

"Maybe, but I have obligations," she replies, giving in, the words tumbling from her more quickly than she can keep up with, "we had an agreement, like a contract. When it was over, it was over. No strings attached."

The more often she says it aloud, the more ridiculous it becomes. What was she thinking when she agreed to this, when she thought of this. Of course feelings were going to become involved. Of course she would stop focusing on the way Eddie kissed and more on the fact that he liked The Sick Puppies and The Paper Kites as well as the fact that she'd spotted Harry Potter books in his room the odd time they'd found privacy in there. He's a nerd and he's weird and stuff, but he's kind of nice when she takes the time to observe him instead of just snogging him.

She's standing there, one hand on the mixing bowl, the other leaning heavily on the granite as Joy stares at her, waiting for her to move. They both jump when something crashes outside, then the loud pounding of several pairs of running feet on the stairs. Then, suddenly, the kitchen is full again, brimming with the noise of other residents, the spark of conversation, Eddie talking loudly about the pros of American football.

Mara snatches the spoon from her hand, licking it clean as she laughs with Amber at Alfie's impression of Victor. It's a buzz and it drowns out her thoughts and how paranoid she is now that everyone knows. For a moment, as she sticks the brownies in the oven and sets the time, she can forget just how involuntarily numb she really is.

* * *

**There you are. Do let me know what you think. Definitely the chapter with the least amount of Eddie. :'( Sad. **

**Anyways, reviews are, as always, appreciated. I can't tell you how hard it was to get this chapter out on time. **

**Much love, **

**-Dream. **


	9. Between The Lines

**I have no excuses. I'm so sorry. I've been sick and studying... I'm just sorry. **

**Thank you to everyone who PMed and reviewed asking for updates. Your encouragement is what kept me going. **

**I truly hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

"_He told me her name. It sounded familiar in a way. I could've sworn I heard him say it ten thousand times. Oh, if only I'd been listening." –Sara Bareilles._

* * *

"I'm sorry I never told you that I knew," Patricia looks up from her homework at Joy. They are lounging on their beds, finishing their homework. Except, really, Patricia's just been doodling down the margin of her English essay for the past fifteen minutes and Joy's been studying her biology notes while painting her nails for the following evening.

Patricia regards her for a second, her best friend who seems oddly wary of her reaction. They hadn't said anything to each other after they'd been interrupted in the kitchen the night before, going about their routines as usual. KT, their other roommate hadn't noticed anything. Then again, she too is as engrossed as Joy in the details of the dance. While she is planning on going stag, along with Mick, she's still as excited as Amber or Nina, still as invested in the exact nature of the shape of her shoes.

Shrugging, Patricia goes back to her homework. But, still, it's been niggling at her since Piper left, the idea that people might figure it out, might be able to deduce from simply _looking_ at her that she was having some kind of relationship with Eddie Miller prior to last week.

"How did you know?"

If Joy is surprised by Patricia's question she doesn't show it, merely shifts on the bed, swinging her legs over into a sitting position.

"Well," she begins slowly, "you know, things were different. The way you would look at each other, the way you kept sneaking off together. It didn't take me very long to figure it out." She offers Patricia a cautious smile, stringing her hands together over her lap and looking guilty.

"There was this one time," she continues, after a moment of silence, "we were all working on an article for The Jackal or something, leaning over one laptop. You were standing beside Eddie." Joy chuckles softly at the memory, glancing at Patricia and then swiftly away, "And you were both leaning so far. You were off balance... Then Eddie put his hand on the small of your back and you didn't even flinch. It was, like, the most natural thing in the world. You just kept talking to me. I don't even think he noticed what he was doing."

Patricia arches her eyebrow at Joy's delighted expression.

"It was cute!" she justifies, laughing easily and Patricia offers her a smile in return.

"Well, at least you have Sven to obsess over now," she smirks as Joy blushes, her face flushing with alarming speed.

"Well, he's nice, you know," she sighs, meeting Patricia's steady gaze, "he's not Fabian, but..."

She trails off as Patricia holds up a hand.

"But that's probably a good thing. It's for the best to leave this whole Fabian thing behind." Joy seems assured by Patricia's confidence in the statement. And she really does believe it's true. For much too long now her best friend's been in love with someone who only has eyes for Nina. Things had been so awkward when the American arrived, all this back stabbing and glaring and Patricia was not proud to admit it, but, once, she may have thrown orange juice over her hair.

All in the nature of friendship of course.

Things had evened out, eventually. Still, it's nice to see Joy try to contain an excited smile about a new prospect, a different boy. Even if he is some crazy Swedish transfer student with an irrational penchant for Dubstep, which Joy is loudly lamenting across from Patricia.

"I don't think I'll go to the dance tomorrow." Patricia knows that Joy takes a minute to consider this. She is overwhelmingly grateful that her best friend doesn't ask any questions, or push the boundaries. Merely, she meets Patricia's eye briefly and her nod is full of understanding.

"For what it's worth," Joy says, minutes later, when they've gone back to their respective tasks, "I think you made a good couple." She doesn't even look up, just pokes her tongue out as she concentrates on the nail of her pinky finger.

"We were not a couple," Patricia scoffs, rolling her eyes to the ceiling, "we weren't even friends."

Joy looks back at her expectantly, "not friends? Really? You two?"

"Yes, really." Patricia doesn't answer. It's sad, she realises, the truth of that. They'd snogged and vented frustrations and tried not to feel anything, but they never really _talked, _not at least until the whole deal with the dance and the catering came along.

"Well, whatever you were," Joy carefully dips the nail varnish brush back into the pot, "you were good at being that."

Patricia doesn't know quite how she's supposed to react to that so she just goes back to doodling, until she realises she's scribbling aimlessly over her half completed essay, so she sets her pen down. Leaning back on her headboard, she pulls on her head phones and tries not to think of the fact that she skips every song by a band Eddie's ever mentioned.

Which, come to think of it, is nearly all of them.

* * *

"You could still come, Patricia," Nina says, as they all crowd downstairs, an excited mass of teenage hormones and hairspray. Patricia wonders if having twenty bobby pins in your hair feels as uncomfortable as it looks. Nina's hair is scrapped back into an formal twist that looks like it's about to yank the hair from her head, but Patricia smiles obligingly as she does with Joy's obscenely yellow dress and Amber's gaudy pink lipstick.

Patricia, for her part, is dressed in her jeans and a jumper, a hoodie slung over her arm, watching as they fawn over each other. They'd spent hours painstakingly applying eye shadow and lip liner and Patricia had wondered, not for the first time, what exactly the point of it all was?

"Yeah," KT joins in, "just grabs a pair of heels and you'd be ready to go." She smiles at them, all of them, because they're kind to try and include her and they really do look gorgeous and the boys look handsome in their suits, but she's not interested. Not only is this not her scene, but she's tired, she's been wrecked for a week now and she has exhausted all supplies of pretence, so she shakes her head.

"I'm alright," she assures them. Joy is already occupied with Sven, who arrived ten minutes ago to whisk her off her feet. Mara and Jerome are off in the corner, talking about something secretive, Nina and Fabian keep their hands strung together, even though she is chatting with Patricia and KT and Fabian is talking to Alfie. Patricia tries not to notice that Eddie is nowhere to be seen.

She'd overheard someone mention him before, in the midst of conversation, how he'd left already, dutifully going to meet Willow at Isis. Patricia feels sort of ridiculous, standing there holding his hoodie, but it had been resting on her chair for days and it was becoming more and more difficult to ignore.

"I'm fine," she repeats when she catches Joy glancing at her and she's a little dubious of the way that she and KT share a look, but she ignores it as they all make their way out the door, shouting goodbyes over their shoulders and Trudy asking several times if she's sure she'll be alright on her own. She and Victor have been drafted in to supervise, so it will just be Patricia and the television for the evening.

It is disconcerting, Patricia is beginning to realise, being alone in Anubis house. She's been here for so long, but this is the first time without the looming threat of Victor walking in or one of her friends bursting through the door. It's almost eerily quiet. Patricia's almost forgotten how creepy the house could be.

Shivering, she contemplates it for a moment before pulling the hoodie on over her arms and zipping it up all the way to the top of her chin. It's warm against her bare arms. She tries not to think of the fact that it smells of him as she settles herself on the couch and switches on the TV, not bothering to check the station, just comforted by the noise.

Right about now, she imagines them all arriving, a mass of excitement, the hall exquisitely decorated, adorned with elegant paper snowflakes and tasteful white bouquets. The tables would be piled high with Patricia's hard work, the brownies dusted with sugar to look like snow, the cupcakes, artfully topped with icing by Willow.

Fabian would be asking Nina to dance and Amber would be laughing at something stupid Alfie says as find their seats. Joy would be wrapped up in the promise of something knew with Sven, not a care in the world. And Eddie. Eddie would be with Willow, probably wearing some kind of fancy suit his Mum sent over, because Patricia knows she's inclined to do that – for his last birthday, she bought him a car. He'll definitely be wearing a tie, his cuffs will be linked and he'll charm Willow with some kind of witty line that would make Patricia roll her eyes in exasperation and frustration and probably kiss him just to shut him up. Willow will laugh and it will be some sort of sickly teen movie. She'll kiss him, but only on the cheek and he'll dance with her, respective distances, of course. She tries not to let that idea get to her, but it is this, more than the kissing or the joking that gets her.

Maybe they are horrible at communicating. Maybe, he just didn't see how exactly she really felt and, maybe, she didn't understand that, for him, it had always been just about the kissing and the hands on skin and lips on necks. But, they had passion. They were never boring and she is sickened to think that Eddie Miller is going to be reduced to some sidekick for a girl who's no superhero herself.

Frustrated, Patricia grabs a pillow and throws her head down onto it, and screams. Loudly. This is not the way things were supposed to work out, but she has anger that clogging her system and she'll be damned if she's not going to _try_ and work it out before he gets back and she has to resign herself to spending the next five months pretending to hate him again. Or worse, feigning indifference. Patricia is anything but indifferent to Eddie now.

"You know, for someone who says they're fine, you're sure not acting like it," Patricia's heart nearly stops and not in a romantic way, when someone speaks from behind her. She is up and off the sofa in a matter of second, spinning around, terrified. She is breathing heavily, shocked from her reverie.

There he is, leaning heavily against the doorframe, watching her. She is so surprised to see him that she almost doesn't notice the way he is wearing that dress shirt, but that the top two buttons are open and his tie is undone so it's lying loosely around his neck. He's not wearing the jacket, but his sleeves are rolled up, his cuffs undone and his arms flex. And those trousers.

He's smirking at her, just waiting patiently in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, rooted to her spot, "where's Willow?" She is suddenly conscious of the fact that he standing there in his suit and she is right across from him, wearing his hoodie, which is pretty incriminating.

"Funny thing about that," he says, pushes himself up off the door and takes a step towards her. She pulls the sleeves of the hoodie down over her hands, fisting the fabric so that her whole upper body is encased with the soft blue material, "see Willow only agreed to go with me to make you jealous. Which, you know, would be pretty difficult with you not being there."

Patricia does not quite register what exactly he has just said to her before he's take five long strides toward her, so he's just a step away. His gaze do not waver and if Patricia thought they were intense before, even when he kissed her the other evening, it is nothing compared to the way he looks at her right now, nothing to the way she wants to jump him and be honest with him and admit that she thinks he's beautiful.

"What?" she eventually says, after a moment of twitching her lips vainly, trying to form comprehensible words.

"Willow thought we'd be cute together, so she agreed to help. I wanted to check if I was the only one who felt more from this," he gestures to her, so that his fingers almost graze her chin, but just skim past it, "than hormones." He stares at her, and his smile is gone and hers was never there and they are both so serious and stoic and Patricia wishes she could find the words to tell him that _yes, god yes_ of course she feels more and would he just kiss her. It takes a second of staring before he breaks away from her and looks at his hands.

"Look, Patricia, if you don't feel the same way, that's cool, but would you just say-" he sounds so vulnerable for one second, so desolate, and Patricia can feel a swell in her chest from the way he says her name and she still can't find words even though she's supposed to be Yacker. So, she decides to muster whatever courage she can locate and takes the last step between them, grabs his face with one hand and his neck with the other and his skin is hot underneath hers and then, because she can be brave sometimes, Patricia brings his face really close to hers, so close their lips graze each other when she whispers.

"I was so jealous."

That's all it takes before he is kissing her fiercely, hotly, several times, hard on the lips and his hands wrap around her back to bring her closer to him and she can feel every part of her body because it's on fire as he pushes again her and she pushes back. They are smiling into something that, incredibly, they both want desperately. Then her back is up against a wall or a door or a cabinet, she's not exactly sure and cares even less because Eddie is kissing down her neck. She takes deep raspy breathes and tries not to moan out loud before she actually does. They are alone and, even if they weren't, they aren't pretending anymore.

He pulls away from her skin for a moment and she feels oddly bare. He is looking at her strangely, in a way he never would have before, like he just might think she's beautiful.

"Patricia Williamson," he murmurs, his eyes searching her face, "will you please go out with me?"

He looks scared and it's funny so Patricia laughs out loud, the kind that makes her throw her head back and the sound to reverberate through the room. He smirks nervously, raises and eyebrow and watches her enjoy herself for a moment.

"Yes," she replies a moment later, their silence punctured occasionally by a short burst of her laughter, "of course I will."

He leans in to kiss her slowly and she can feel the grin against the skin of her mouth. They don't do much talking after that.

* * *

Patricia vaguely registers noise in the back of her mind, hours later, when she has fallen asleep on the couch. It's a low buzz, that irritates her and hums against the back of her mind. She tries to roll on sofa, but the space is restricted and she's very warm, so it's difficult. Groaning, she reaches up to run a hand through her hair but finds that she can't move her arm.

She realises why at the exact moment someone screams joyously and she jolts wide awake. Eddie's arm is wrapped around her waist and suddenly she can feel all the delicious heat coming from him. Then, slowly, wincing, she turns to find all her housemates in the doorway to the living room. Amber's hands are clasped over her mouth and Patricia knows she's the one who screamed. Joy has her heels in her hands and she is smiling wider than Patricia's ever seen her smile. Mara coos and most of the boys look confused.

"What's going on?" Patricia can feel his breath on her ear and the wisps of hair at the back of her neck. She chuckles, leaning into him.

"You don't want to know."

"Guys!" This time it is KT would speaks and Nina steps forward gleefully towards them, arms outstretched. Groaning, Patricia throws her head back.

"Ugh, go away. I want to go back to sleep," she moans and everyone laughs, loudly, freely and Patricia can't help but smile at the feeling of Eddie's chuckles reverberating through her back.

* * *

**I have no excuses for how long this took. It was ridiculous. But there are two chapters left and I hope to have them out on time. :)**

**I really hope you liked this chapter, it's been plaguing me since the beginning. **

**Anyway, reviews are always appreciated, even if I don't deserve them. **

**-D**


	10. You've Got Growing Up to Do

**I'm sorry. I really have no excuse. I really hope you like this chapter. I worked on it steadily the whole time, but really tried hard to get it out to you today. I've been planning this since the very beginning. I hope you enjoy it :)**

**Also, I was sad when season 3 ended. It was a brilliant last episode, but too short! :/ **

**As always thank you so much for the reviews. I loved them all.**

* * *

"_Someday I'll return when it's time for payment in kind. The church bells will chime. You'll stand before me surrounded by lights, dressed in white. You'll throw flowers in the air."_

* * *

_May_

* * *

"Get out of my face, you arsehole!"

"Here we go again," Jerome rolls his eyes to accompany Mara's comment as he reaches across the breakfast table, grabbing a slice of toast. Upstairs, the pounding of feet and the slamming of doors are frequent, loud noises, most especially in the morning. This, much to the residents' distain, is a solid element of their routine.

It's no secret; Eddie still sometimes wholly dislikes Patricia and she is more than happy to reciprocate.

Joy sighs, reaching for the milk jug and pouring it over her cereal, then carrying it into the kitchen. Despite their relationship, Patricia has not ceased from unceremoniously dumping liquids on Eddie when the occasion called for it.

"Brace yourselves," Joy says, taking her seat again. From her place she can see her friend's ratty converse skip down the steps quickly, followed by Eddie's customary black trainers. Her friend appears in the doorway first, dressed for the final time in her customary school blazer adorned with studs and badges. She is scowling and throws a filthy look over her shoulder as she steps into the dining room.

"Morning," Nina calls from the far end of the table, while Patricia's frown deepens. Joy knows, mostly because she is Patricia's best friend, but partly because it's just obvious, that's Patricia always been disgusted by the fact that people lump them in with Fabian and Nina. "_Honestly," _she hisses to Joy and KT in the quiet of their dark room late at night, "do people really think we're as bad as _Fabina_."

Honestly, Joy replies, but only in her head, because she likes the fact that all her limbs are attached, people think you're worse.

Patricia doesn't offer a greeting to Nina but moves towards the kitchen, away from the doorway. Her space is soon occupied by her boyfriend. He, Joy notices, is entirely more relaxed, his pace is slow, deliberate, but he searches the room the second it is in view. She knows exactly who he is looking for.

"Eddie, I said leave me alone," Patricia's voice is heavy, angry, the other residents know exactly what is coming. It takes all of three strides, which Jerome counts out loud, before Eddie is right up in his girlfriend's face and he grins at her, raises his eyebrows and kisses her square on the mouth. Their limbs tangle quickly and the entire table groans in unison.

"PDA," Amber calls as Joy turns away from the pair and faces her cereal again.

Yes, she thinks, they're kind of gross, but she still remembers a time when Patricia used to insist that she didn't want to jump Eddie and when they both liked to pretend they hated each other, just to mask their jealousy. All in all, this version of them is a whole lot more kosher, and Joy always thought they'd be cute together anyway.

* * *

"I think my Mom literally cried at the idea of meeting you at graduation on Sunday," Eddie smirks into Patricia's hair as they sit in her deserted bedroom, late on the following Saturday evening. They are done with lessons, all prepped and ready for their forthcoming exams a fortnight from now, after graduation and a week of frantic studying. Patricia thinks that perhaps paying more attention in history might've been a good idea, but it's too late for that now and her book lies discarded on the floor beside a scarf (possibly KT's) and a tube of effervescent pink lip gloss (definitely Amber's).

"Literally?" she doubts because Eddie himself never cries at anything, not even movies or animals dying, which doesn't make him heartless, just weird.

"Literally," he repeats and his smile deepens at her frown, "I heard actual sobbing. I think she thinks you're perfect." He mock scoffs tightening his arm around her, laughing.

"No pressure," Patricia grumbles but laughs anyway because Eddie is too and she's actually kind of excited. When Eddie met her parents for the first time, during February midterm, he was a total dork about it, going on about honourable intentions and lack of questionable motives. Patricia had smiled politely along with him and thanked her lucky stars that she had a twin sister who was so easy in uncomfortable situations. She never thought she'd be so grateful for Piper's pointless small talk.

It was _American, _he'd insisted in the cab on the way back to his Dad's. It's what's said when you meet your girlfriend's parents.

They then proceeded to fight about exactly how many girlfriends' parents he'd met in his time. They didn't speak for three days afterwards.

"She'll love you."

"You're a sap."

"Your sap," he pouts mockingly

She hits him across the chest lightly, his corresponding laughter vibrating through her chest. She moves to glance at him briefly and finds him looking at her in a way that makes her throat tighten. He looks like he is considering something, considering her and she finds herself wondering at the fact that his face is now familiar, the way he smiles when he's watching a TV show or the way his eyes flinch every time America is mentioned.

It frightens her, that look, so, instead of letting him speak, she lets her hands find his face and pulls it down towards hers. He tastes familiar too, but that is far easier to dismiss as lust, as hormones so Patricia pushes harder, finds the skin under his t-shirt, ignoring the way her lashes flutter against his cheeks as her eyes close.

His body is flush against her as she shifts around for better access, dragging her palms around to the back of his neck as her legs bracket his hips. He sighs into her, his hands brushing over the small of her back. After all this time, after all it's changed, it still feels like the first day. They are still on fire for each other, only now, they take their time, drink each other.

She would never admit it, not to Joy or KT, especially not to Eddie, but she likes it better this way. She can savour every moment and forget that things are about to shift irreparably.

Just as she's getting into it, he pulls back, away from her kiss, and her eyes open, finding his. They are wide and brown and beautiful – another thought she'd never dare voice – and watching her.

"What?" she clips, but he ignores her tone, just smirking.

"Nothing," he replies, before reaching back up to find her again.

* * *

Her sister makes it to their graduation, just two days later. She's leaving on a spectacular world tour with some prestigious orchestra and Patricia couldn't be more thrilled for her, but it's nice that she's there. She smiles widely at her sister when she knocks on the bedroom door, peering around, greeted with loud shrieks of approval as she enters.

Patricia is grateful that she's wearing a simple black dress. She knows Piper probably picked it out in an effort not to outshine her sister. She's always been the more considerate one.

She hugs the girls happily, one by one, before she gets to Patricia, squeezing her tightly.

"It's over!" she cries happily in her ear and pulling away from her to look over her outfit. She's wearing a red lace dress that she feels beautiful in. The back dips in such a way that her tattoo is on display. She's not too proud that she won't admit that driving Eddie crazy was motivation behind her picking it out. Her parents may kill her, but then at least they'd agree on something other than her inadequate ability to make decisions about her future, which would be a nice change.

"You look lovely, Trix," she says before turning to the wider room, "you all do."

Everyone is beaming and happy and Nina has already cried this morning. Twice.

"Aren't you all so excited?" Piper squeals, dropping down onto Patricia's bed, "off to university. And you Amber, to New York!" She claps her hands together quickly and Amber beams.

"I know I'm so excited!" Amber claps three times, bouncing in her heels

"What about you Nina?"

"I'm going back to America, to Boston," Nina smiles widely. She'd never admit it to them all, but Patricia had once overheard her telling Amber that it had taken a slight toll on her and Fabian. They were still together, but Fabian was staying in England, heading to Oxford.

"Brilliant. I might see you there in November. We're stopping at Berkeley as part of the tour. And Eddie, where's he headed?" Piper question is tentative, Patricia can almost hear how frightened she is that this might set her off, make her angry. Last time they'd talked Patricia had told Piper that Eddie was considering leaving for America, his choice was between some school on the west coast and the University of London.

"He eventually decided on London," Patricia says, joining her sister on the bed. She herself had decided on the University of Edinburgh in Scotland. It would be long distance, but they would make it work.

Piper smiles at her, and Patricia wants to grin back, but then things are lost in a buzz excitement and Victor and Trudy are calling from downstairs so everyone gathers their things and head towards the door.

* * *

They get their diplomas and everyone is so happy and screaming about graduating and Alfie has shouted "I did it!" at least three times since the ceremony ended. Patricia doesn't think she's ever been happier, laughing with everyone and throwing the hat from her graduation gown in the air. Eddie's arm is wrapped around her waist, but they are talking to different people, celebrating together, leaning into one another.

Joy is talking happily about university, about Scotland and how things are going to be different now, totally, immeasurably different, but good. Better even. Patricia nods along with her, they are all on a high, laughing, adrenaline coursing through them because, despite everything, they did it, and everything seems better now.

Just as she's considering unwrapping herself from her boyfriend and going in search of her sister, Patricia feels him tugging at her, hears her name over the buzz of excitement.

"Yes?" she turns around, expecting Eddie and perhaps Jerome, but instead finds her boyfriend with an older woman. She is slender and tall, with the kind of blonde hair that probably looked like Amber's when she was a teenager, only it's curly, so it spring around her shoulders. She wears glasses, too, which Patricia was not expecting, and a sharp suit, complete with pencil skirt, in a charcoal grey. Her eyes, behind the glasses, are brown, and even if she'd never seen the pictures, Patricia would know who she was anyway.

Eddie's mum.

He glances between them nervously for a second, smiling, before he clears his throat.

"Patricia," he says, letting go of her mid section and grabbing her hand. His palm is sweaty and if this were any other situation, Patricia would laugh, "this is my Mom. Mom, this is Patricia," he coughs, "my girlfriend."

There is one awful moment, as she stares at this woman, when it is so awkward, Patricia thinks that she has just blown her entire relationship. Then Ms Miller smiles.

"Patricia," she steps forward, hand outstretched, which Patricia takes with her free one and shakes, hard, "it's good to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

Patricia smiles back, then they launch into a conversation about Eddie, one which makes him blush and grimace. Then her parents join them and Mr Sweet. They joke about the pair of them, as a couple and Piper pokes fun at how obvious and oblivious they were when she visited in December.

They are just talking about the graduation ceremony, Patricia's parents are commenting on what a lovely affair it was when Eddie's Mom brightens up.

"Patricia, will you be joining Eddie in America in September?"

Then everything freezes. Eddie stills and Patricia feels her entire body tense up. Her parents look confused and Mr Sweet and Ms Miller look expectant and Piper, her poor twin sister, always caught in the crossfire, is just looking between Patricia and Eddie like she used to last year.

"I'm sorry," she says, breaking the silence, adverting her gaze from Patricia's, which then snaps up to her boyfriend's face. He looks unnervingly guilt ridden, "I was under the impression Eddie was going to university in London."

Then it is Eddie's Mom who frown, turns to her son. But before anyone else has a chance to Patricia holds her hand up.

"Eddie, are you going to America for college?" she knows her voice sounds cool, cold even and her eyes are calculating. He stares back momentarily, then swiftly adverts his gaze. This is all the answer Patricia ever needed.

Ripping her hand from his, she thinks she makes her excuses before she is turning and running, away from her friends and her family and her teachers and Eddie, whatever he is now and wonders why she ever believed anyone, Joy, Piper, Eddie, when they told her that giving this a chance would work out for the best in the end.

* * *

"I'm still not talking to you, Edison," she says, packing her bags into the back of her Dad's car. She can't see him though, he disappeared fifteen minutes ago to thank Mr Sweet and find a bathroom. They have a long drive home. Right now though, Patricia just wants her sister and cup of tea, "go away."

"Come on, Patricia," he says, lugging another bag into the boot, "I wanted to tell you, I did." He sounds desperate and when Patricia spares him a glance, she almost feels bad. Then, suddenly, the humiliation hits her again and her anger surges.

"Really?" she asks, turning to him, her voice heavy with frustration, "and when exactly were you planning on doing that? Sometime before you actually got on your flight to California? Or just when you were settled at the college? Wherever the hell that is? You told me you were staying here for Uni... Were you just planning on abandoning me?"

She is ashamed of how her voice cracks so she slams the door of the boot closed and marches around to the passenger side, Eddie shadowing her. Across the car park, a taxi pulls in and the sound of its engine dies. It must be for Eddie, to take him to the airport.

"Patricia, no," his voice is low, pleading, "no. I was going to ask you to come with me."

At this, her hand stills on the handle of the door, her breath quickens. He must take it as an invitation to continue, because he takes a step closer.

"You got accepted into all those colleges. I thought we could go together..." It only takes one look for Patricia to know he's being genuine.

"They were back ups," she sighs. They fall silent.

"I can't wait for you like that Eddie," she whispers the words, a second later, but he looks like he already knew what she was going to say. The odd thing is, she's not angry. She understands. They've only been going out for five months, officially. He can't wait for her either.

They could've been beautiful, she thinks, the kind of romance they write movies and books about, but he is missing something here in England that he needs to go and find. She, too, does not quite know how to understand who she wants to become. They are mutually lost. They need each other, but they need to go where they are being called.

That is the definition of tragic.

"Whatever it is you're searching for, Eddie," she whispers as he bows his head, curling his fists up in frustration and desolation, "I hope you find it."

She is in his arms before she knows what's happening, her face is buried in his chest. She does not cry, ever, but she thinks if she was ever to consider it, now would be the moment. He smells as he always did, even back in September when he leaned down to roughly kiss her squarely on the lips for the first time, like peppermint and aftershave and pancakes.

He is delicious and warm and she wishes for one crazy moment that she could get in the cab with him and go to the airport and leave for America. It would be insane, but maybe their relationship would endure college and flirty American girls and the stresses of being young and they would get married and have loads of kids and be in love for the rest of their lives.

Or it might fail. Patricia would be left with nothing but an American cell phone empty of contacts and a mountain of student loans. She's not brave enough to take the risk and he's not selfish enough to ask her to find that unattainable courage.

So, they hug each other close in the car park of her school, where she stands for the last time, the cool British summer breeze curling around them, holding them close. She is so annoyed at herself, disgusted, because right now she would give anything for just another minute and they wasted two and a half years being stubborn and proud and plainly stupid.

But they do not have that time to take back, so she pulls away from him and stands on her tip-toes, laying a gentle kiss on his cheek, lingering momentarily.

"I love you," she whispers onto his cheek, so that it remains imprinted there forever. It is the first time she has ever said those words to him, or to anyone, and his eyes are gleaming with unshed tears as he returns the kiss, a soft touch of his lips to her forehead.

"I love you, too."

This is their goodbye.

* * *

"_But the best thing I can give to you, is for me to go, leave you alone, you got growing up to do."_

* * *

**Don't kill me. Remember, there is still one more chapter yet. :)**

**As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. **


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